Forever Lost
by mckenna4
Summary: This was something they could never let go, because it's hard to move on when you can never forget. Callen and Sam, Team fic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hey everyone! Finally back with a new story. My busy few weeks turned into months with finals to graduation stuff to dance shows to vacation, but finally have time to write. Anyway, this story just came out of nowhere when I was working on another idea. First chapter is kind of short. Please leave a review for me, they make my day! Advice is also welcome, hope you enjoy it!

* * *

Sam and Callen entered the weapons room hauling their gear, Kensi and Deeks in tow. Deeks let out a long sigh as he set his bag on the table.

"Well, that may be the fastest case we've ever solved. Anyone up for a little celebratory drink, huh? What about you, Kens?"

"Sure, if you're buying." Kensi smiled.

Callen and Sam shared a knowing look and grinned. Their junior agents had been going out after cases a lot lately.

"How about you two? Callen, Sam?"

"Think we'll pass on this one, Deeks."

Deeks shrugged. "Suit yourselves."

After cleaning and restocking their assault rifles, the two agents made their way out of the weapons room, arguing about where to celebrate and Kensi's spending limit. Sam chuckled at the pair, watching them leave. He turned to Callen who'd just finished cleaning his weapon.

"Hey, you up for a run tonight?"

Callen looked up from the pieces he was disassembling, showing a calm, relaxed expression. "Sure, as long as you think you can keep up this time." A small smile grew on his face.

Sam raised his eyebrows and stifled a laugh. "Me, keep up? Who's the one I'm always slowing down for?"

"Well, your memory isn't what it used to be."

"Yeah? Well it looks like yours isn't either. Here, let me help you remember." Sam's tone suggested a challenge for his partner. Callen flashed a confident look, signaling his acceptance. The two quickly put their gear on the shelves and headed to the locker room to change.

* * *

A few minutes later, the partners walked through the doors of the mission and toward the street. "You ready? Let's start with five miles."

"You're on." Callen started to quicken his pace and Sam closely followed. They ran throughout the streets of Los Angeles, weaving between roads and traveling through neighborhoods. Always the agents, they made sure to check for tails from the mission. The nights had been getting cooler and it was refreshing to the pair who liked to go on runs after work. The hot summer nights were finally relenting.

Once they'd gone far enough, Callen signaled for them to slow down and catch their breath. They both slowed to a walking pace and took in their surroundings, mentally noting how far away from Ops they were.

"You're running out of breath a little early. Maybe if you ate real food instead of that crap you put in your body you'd have more energy."

Callen turned toward his partner at that comment. "Hey, I'm fine. You're looking pretty tired though, big guy."

"Heh, yeah okay." Sam smiled at the familiar stubbornness Callen was infamous for. Callen's classic smirk appeared on his face in return. The pair continued to walk in the darkness, observing the atmosphere of the night around them. It was quiet in the neighborhood, and no movement disturbed the silence.

They got to the corner of the street when out of nowhere a black van approached, coming to a quick stop right next to them. Alarm bells immediately went off in the agents' heads, but they didn't have their weapons on them. Before they could think of a plan, three masked, armed men busted through the van door, training their guns on Sam.

Another came out of the passenger door and approached Callen. "Get in the van!" The man ordered. Callen remained on the sidewalk, looking nothing but defiant. The single gun aimed at Callen fired, hitting his left shoulder. Callen hit the ground with a grunt, colliding with the harsh concrete beneath him.

Sam surged forward, only to be held back by the men surrounding him. A gun was placed on his head. "Do it, or he's dead."

Callen, bleeding and trying to block out the pain, met his eyes to his partner's. A look of fear, worry, and trust passed between the agents. Nothing had to be said. They knew they had no choice. Callen picked himself off of the ground and took a few steps toward the van. Just as quickly as they came, the masked men moved toward the van, shoved Callen inside, and climbed back in. The van door slid shut as the van peeled out, leaving Sam no choice but to stand there and watch his injured partner be forcefully taken. He watched the taillights fade in the distance, angry that he couldn't have foreseen this or done anything to help his friend. With no other option, he took off with a speed faster than he had ever run with Callen in the direction of Ops. His worry, anger, and determination fueling him as he ran into the dark night.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for the great response to this story. I was going to wait a little before posting this chapter but I already had it written so I figured why not. I'm a lot happier with this one than the first. Chapters will be posted as i finish them and Callen's POV will be in the next chapter.

* * *

Hetty sat at her desk, an array of papers laid out in front of her and a steaming cup of tea in hand. She planned to spend the rest of the evening reviewing and signing case files her agents finally turned in, but a creak from the mission doors caught her attention. Putting down her tea cup, she looked to see one of her senior agents approaching her, sweaty and frustrated.

"Mr. Hanna, I didn't expect you back from your run so soon. Where is your partner?"

Ignoring how she even knew where they were, Sam turned to his boss to tell her what happened. "He's gone. While we were approaching a corner, a black van pulled up, stopped us. No plates. Four masked gunman and one driver. The passenger got out, ordered Callen to get in the van while I was surrounded by three gunman. We were outnumbered and had no weapons. Callen didn't listen and they shot him. They forced him inside then drove off, headed east."

As Sam spoke, Hetty's expression changed from curiosity to worry and fear. They both knew how close the other was to Callen, and Sam realized the news would hit her just as hard.

"Where was he shot?" Hetty spoke slowly with her certain calmness and air of professionalism Sam could not duplicate

"Left shoulder. We need to call in the team, the longer we wait the less chance we have of finding him."

"I am aware of this Mr. Hanna, I will call Eric and Nell." Hetty raised her hand to stop her agent from interrupting her. "There is nothing our agents can do until we find him. It's best if Ms. Blye and Mr. Deeks get some rest other than worrying all night. I suspect you will all need as much rest as you can get. That includes you, Mr. Hanna." Sam knew he couldn't argue against his boss, but there was no way he could sleep through the night knowing his partner had just been abducted.

"I'm not going home, Hetty. Not when Callen is out there." Sam confessed. Hetty could see the guilt and anxiety building up in his eyes, and knew she could not convince him otherwise.

"I wouldn't expect anything different, Sam." Her sincerity and use of his first name caught his attention.

After a moment, he turned to the bullpen and headed toward his desk. Sitting down, he glanced across the way to his partner's desk while he overheard Hetty calling in Eric and Nell. Thinking back on what happened not even an hour ago, he silently vowed to catch whoever did this and to bring Callen home. _Alive, _he added. He picked up a pen and paper and wrote down what little he knew.

* * *

Sam had been working on his report of the incident all night and anything he could remember about the suspects, although Hetty did convince him to at least shower and rest on the couch for a couple hours in between notifying Director Vance and the other proper authorities. He was still in his gym clothes and her office was starting to smell.

Eric and Nell had arrived at the Ops center an hour after Hetty called them and two hours after Callen's abduction. They had been working tirelessly to find their leader, searching out any leads they found.

While the rest of the team was working, Kensi and Deeks strolled through the doors of the mission, coffee and doughnuts in hand. Walking into the bullpen, they found their senior agent on his laptop looking exhausted and pissed.

"Wow," Deeks began, "You look like-" Sam shot him a look and Deeks quickly changed course. "Uh, you-you look great."

Kensi rolled her eyes at her partner and turned around toward her desk. Deeks kept his mouth shut and sat down next to Sam. Setting her bag and precious doughnuts down, Kensi glanced next to her catching sight of the empty desk. Turning toward the missing member's partner, Kensi inquired, "Hey, where's Callen?"

Sam stopped typing on his laptop and looked to her. Meeting his eyes, Kensi saw a hint of guilt before he broke contact, confusing her even more.

Suddenly, Sam shut his computer and stood up. "Ops, now." His tone left no room for argument. He quickly left and climbed up the stairs. Looking at her partner, they both stood up and quickly followed. They were unsure of Sam's behavior, but his urgency and lack of a clear answer worried them. They entered Ops and saw everyone already up there waiting for them, even Hetty. They all seemed eerily quiet, and the junior agents knew something was very wrong. "Hetty," Kensi slowly asked, afraid of the answer, "what happened?"

Hetty turned toward her techs and signaled for then to start.

"At approximately 10:00pm last night, a black van pulled up near Callen and Sam during their run on a residential street about five miles north of us. Four gunman then climbed out of the van, shooting and abducting Agent Callen." Nell's voice grew shaky, showing how the briefing was emotionally difficult for her. "The van then took off heading east. It had no plates and the suspects wore masks. There is little we have to go on, however we were able to find a video on a nearby street camera."

She pressed play and everyone in the Ops center stared intently at the screen, watched the turn of events happen in seconds. The video ended with the van disappearing and Sam setting off in a sprint in the direction he came. Sam stepped forward to give more information to his teammates.

"They came out of nowhere, we had no weapons and no phones. These guys moved fast, like pros. Whoever they are, it looks like they targeted Callen. He definitely has a long list."

Hetty looked toward her team, noting their behavior. Deeks showed concern on his face and became serious and focused, for once not having a single comment to add. Kensi looked completely worried for her leader, the person she saw as her big brother. Eric and Nell were afraid for his safety and defeated that they had found so little to help. Sam… Sam looked like he wanted to punch something, but even more he looked completely guilty that again his partner was shot in front of him and he could do nothing to stop it, that despite his struggling he couldn't find a way to help his partner.

"I don't have to remind you how important this mission is. Ms. Jones and Mr. Beale will continue tracing the van, where it went and where it came from, and go back the last month and see if anyone was watching Mr. Callen. You three will search Mr. Callen's home, and please be aware of anyone watching nearby. Then compile a list of suspects who would have the finances and resources available to target Mr. Callen. It looks like these men were guns for hire. Mr. Hanna, do you believe you two were followed from this location?"

"No. We checked for tails, no one was following us."

"Good, then it is safe to assume our operations center is not compromised. Now, you all have work to do. We protect our own at all costs." she emphasized, meeting each person's eyes. Looking at Sam's last, she continued. "Mr. Hanna, a word."

As the others quickly got to work, Sam sauntered over to his boss.

"Sam, this is not your fault."

"I was right there. I should have done something to stop it, instead I just let him be taken."

"You couldn't have prevented this, and you were surrounded. If you had tried to do something you probably would've gotten yourself killed. Now I know that wouldn't have done anything to help your partner and you know he wouldn't have wanted that either."

"He's my partner, Hetty. It's my job to watch his back."

"And sometimes, Mr. Hanna, these things just happen. Now put away your guilt and focus on finding him. You know that the one thing Mr. Callen can count on right now is _you_." Hetty scolded. Sam knew she was right, but it did nothing to quell his guilt. The only way to do that was to find Callen, and he knew that his partner would hang on for him until he was saved.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry for the slow update, wanted this up a few days ago but had less free time than I expected. I'll always update as soon as I can (psst... reviews help ;)) And to answer a previous reviewer question even though it's kind of a spoiler, no this isn't a death fic. Trust me, you'll see I've got this all planned out! Hope you like this chapter.

* * *

Callen slowly opened his eyes while he regained consciousness. As he groggily surveyed his surroundings, he became aware of a few things. The first was the throbbing pain shooting out from his shoulder, and its intensity forced him to shut his eyes again and try to block it out. The next thing he noticed was that he was laying on cold, dirty concrete in an uncomfortable, awkward position. Testing his hands and feet, he concluded that they both were tied together with rope, so even if he did have his trusty bobby pin on him, it would've been useless. Breathing hard, Callen opened his eyes once more, trying to get an idea of where he was. He noticed he was in some kind of basement or cellar. Boxes with layers of dust on shelves, old equipment and hand tools, and a few chairs decorated the small room. The room had no windows and only one door at the top of a flight of stairs. It reminded him of Gibbs' basement, except the stairs proceeded downward directly in front of the door rather than off to its side.

The brief thought of his former teammate brought his mind back to his next question: what happened? Now awake and fully aware of what was going on, Callen moved quickly to a sitting position, ignoring the dizziness and pain from his shoulder it caused. He went through what he last remembered, trying to figure out what he'd gotten himself into this time. It didn't come back until the thought occurred to him that he and Sam hadn't finished their run. All at once, last night rushed into his mind and he realized the gravity of his situation. The end of the case, their little competition, the run, the shooting, a gun to Sam's head, and being crammed into a van with several huge men. He must have passed out after that, because he couldn't recall anything else, but for how long? Was it the same still night, or the next day? More importantly, who were they? And what did they want? Callen let out a long sigh as he realized these were all questions he couldn't answer. He'd just have to wait this out and see what lay ahead for him.

One thing he did know was his partner must be fuming by now. Unfortunately, this would count as another time Sam had to save his life. Truthfully, he knew Sam was right, but he would never admit it. The last thing he needed was another disagreement for Sam to win.

Callen scooted himself over to the concrete wall behind him so at least no one could sneak up on him from behind. A faint trail of blood followed him from his original spot on the floor, where a dark, half-dry pool of the trail's source lay. Glancing down, Callen noted he had almost stopped bleeding._ 'At least it seems I won't bleed to death'_, he thought. He leaned against the wall and rested his head. Patience had never been his strong suit. At this point, he'd rather have his captors come in than just sit in this musty basement waiting for something to happen, but with no other options, he made himself as comfortable as possible with a gunshot and his hands tied behind his back and silently prayed his team would find him.

* * *

While Eric and Nell followed any lead they could possibly find, Sam, Kensi, and Deeks drove to Callen's house. Although they doubted they'd find anything, they could leave no stone unturned if it meant finding their leader. The junior agents hadn't ever even been there, so Kensi followed behind Sam in her Cadillac with her partner seated next to her. When she remained silent for most of the drive, Deeks knew something was off.

"Kensi, something wrong?" he quietly asked. Kensi hardened her expression, preparing to deflect his concern, but then she decided against it.

"Other than being worried?" She gave him an exasperated look. Deeks' surprised expression caused her to turn her attention back to the road.

"Sorry, it's just-"

"I know, Kens."

"I hate doing this, having to search our teammate's house. It just feels so wrong. The last time we did-"

"Kensi, we'll find him."

She let out a long sigh, and the two continued the trip in silence.

Pulling up to his house, Sam exited his challenger and Kensi and Deeks fell in step behind him after arriving. They discreetly surveyed the street for any watchers, but didn't notice anyone. Kensi reached for her lock picking tools as she neared the door, but Sam motioned for her not to. He pulled a key from a nearby flower pot and opened the door.

"Don't think he'd want us messing up his door." Sam commented.

Deeks glanced at Kensi, surprised Callen would keep his key in a flower pot of all places, and Kensi just shrugged her shoulders in return and stepped inside behind Sam.

Their search eventually came up empty, which for the junior agents was a little too accurate of a description since they'd barely encountered anything in Callen's whole house. The most exciting thing they came across was a chess set laid out on the floor. They knew about his strange habits, they just figured he'd at least have a TV by now.

"Nothing." Sam spat, clearly upset with how far they'd gotten on the investigation. He walked around for a minute, clearly trying to convince himself they could find another lead, another way to save his best friend. He prided himself on being able to keep a clear head in stressful situations, but when it came to all the trouble his partner got himself into, that ability always went out the door. The clock was ticking and the longer they waited, the less their chances were. When Sam calmed down and could think straight again, he rejoined the rest of the team.

"We need to check in with Ops, see if they found anything. Let's go, there's nothing here."

* * *

Eric and Nell were still working furiously on the van and Callen's whereabouts for the past few weeks, so the rest of the team wasted no time in going through Callen's list of enemies. They searched and searched through his old case files, looking for anyone who had the resources and the desire for revenge. The problem was that most of his enemies had both and with what little information they had to go on they couldn't narrow them down, it really could be anyone. Their worry and anxiety had increased over the past few hours, so when Eric barreled out of Ops yelling that he found something, they rushed upstairs mirroring Eric's enthusiasm.

Eric and Nell had finally been able to trace where the van went by catching it on a couple of private home cameras and even in the reflections of images on a couple other cameras. They explained to the team where it was spotted and eventually came to an address in Valencia.

While Sam, Kensi, and Deeks raced to the location, Nell managed to find one guy who had been following Callen for the past few weeks. He'd showed up on cameras on the streets near his house and the mission, but never close enough to either building. Nell decided that he was discreetly tailing Callen but could never follow him long enough for Callen to lead him anywhere because Callen was such a paranoid driver. The suspect must have been waiting and watching for the right time and opportunity for the abduction. This also proved that Callen was targeted. Unfortunately, none of the cameras could get a clear enough image for Nell to run it; another dead end.

* * *

Callen looked up from the spot on the ceiling he'd been staring at for an hour when he heard the only door creak open. Three men walked through and down the stairs, and Callen knew by the way they moved they were the same men that had put a gun to his partner. Defenseless, Callen just waited for them to get closer, watching their every move. Two of them grabbed him while the third brought a needle out of his pocket. Callen tried to free himself from their grasp, but his efforts were in vain as he felt something pierce his neck and in a matter of seconds he went out like a light.

* * *

Tires screeched to an abrupt stop as the agents climbed out and advanced on the house. It stood alone with no surrounding buildings or houses on its street, '_perfect if your hiding out a hostage'_, they thought. Sam kicked the door open and the three of them stormed the house together, determined to find their missing leader. Surprised, they didn't find anyone as they searched every room. Finally, they came to the back of the house and with one closed door left unchecked, the agents shared a look and took their positions. Sam kicked in the door.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: First, I terribly apologize for how long this chapter took. I had some writers' block at the beginning and was juggling with the ways this chapter would turn out. The good news is this chapter turned out extra long to make up for the wait. I have also written a detailed outline for the whole plot and I must say I'm excited to write what I came up with.

This chapter starts to set up the main plot and the rest will be easier now that the beginning is out of the way. Most importantly, for all the Callen fans out there I warn you now and encourage you to read until the end! Trust me.

* * *

_Sam kicked the door open and the three of them stormed the house together, determined to find their missing leader. Surprised, they didn't find anyone as they searched every room. Finally, they came to the back of the house and with one closed door left unchecked, the agents shared a look and took their positions. Sam kicked in the door._

* * *

The door was literally broken down as the agents burst into the basement. Searching the area, Kensi noticed no immediate threats and proceeded down the steps in front of her, gun raised with Deeks and Sam in tow.

She hit the floor and quickly covered the perimeter of the dusty basement, ensuring the room was clear of any lurking enemies. Deeks followed her example by clearing the room in the opposite direction, walking alongside crowded shelves and forgotten boxes of long lost possessions. Once Sam set foot on the basement's dirty concrete floor, he had caught sight of the reddish-brown pool of blood in the middle of the floor.

He stopped his movement and lowered his gun, barely registering his teammates signaling that the house was clear. He slowly walked over to the large bloodstain, cursing its sickening size. He knew it had to be his partner's, and he also knew that much blood loss was never a good sign. Holstering his weapon, an overwhelming amount of fear and remorse came over him. His mind began to run through the possibilities of what it could mean and he feared the worst.

Kensi and Deeks noticed the slight change in the agent's demeanor and slowly approached Sam's still form as they eyed the puddle in front of them with trepidation. The three of them stood surrounding it, trying to find something, anything that could rule out the possible truth, that could lead them in the right direction, because the possible conclusion it led them in the direction toward was so very wrong. The silence became deafening as none of them wanted to voice their thoughts, afraid they'd be right. Frustration grew as they grasped the fact that their leader was still nowhere to be found.

After a few moments, Deeks glanced up to his partner's face, noticing the grief and tension etched in its crevices. He was worried about her, knowing how much her team members meant to her and what another loss in her life could do. He drew his attention to the senior agent who hadn't said a word since breaching the basement, and Deeks could see in his expression the worry and guilt taking its toll on the man. He knew how he felt, he was feeling much of the same, but he also knew that standing in front of a pool of blood and going through all the 'what-ifs' in their minds wouldn't help anyone, so he started taking a good look around the filthy basement.

He walked along the walls, taking in the sight of some dusty boxes and a table with old, broken tools. It looked as if no one had been down here in a while (besides the painful fact that there was an empty floor with fresh blood stains). Judging by the décor of the remainder of the house, it had probably been abandoned years ago. Deeks noticed no other important details other than an obvious trail of dried blood leading from the puddle to the wall.

He sighed and cocked his head upwards, wishing they could catch a break. His eyes wandered until they spotted a camera in the corner of the room. They widened and his eyebrows raised in response to his discovery. It peaked his curiosity, and with newfound determination he began to approach his stagnant teammates.

"Guys," Deeks started. When his efforts were met with silence, he got closer and nudged them. "Hey, you two with me?"

Fortunately, his words got through to them on the second try and a few nods and glances provided him with an answer. If the situation weren't so serious, Deeks would've thrown in a joke or comment, but he knew when to be completely focused and now was certainly the time.

"Looks like there's nothing else down here, but maybe Eric can get something off that camera." Deeks pointed to the corner. The others turned to follow his gaze.

Kensi cleared her throat and spoke up. "There's also one out front, I saw it when we came in. I'll call Eric, see if he can access them." She pulled out her phone and turned away, tucking one hand in her pocket as she dialed Ops.

"There's a chair with blood on it upstairs in the bedroom. They might have interrogated him there," Sam guesses, his frustrated sigh expressing his dislike of the thought. "Nothing else looks like it's been touched in years." Sam added quietly.

"Ok, got it Eric." Kensi hung up her phone and tucked it in the back pocket of her jeans. "He can access the cameras, and Hetty wants us back in Ops. She's sending in another team to clean up. Eric will have the feed for us to watch when we get back."

Sam sighed and looked around the dismal basement, realizing his failure once again to be there for his partner. "Let's go." His frustration and defeat in his voice conveyed how the others felt as they reluctantly climbed the stairs and left the basement, the one place that'd been their hope. Now that hope was shrinking more and more with each dead end and they could only pray that they'd find any success before that hope vanished.

* * *

By the time they arrived at the mission, the growing sense of dread in Sam's gut had become all too noticeable for his liking. They all entered through the huge wooden doors, the sound of it closing behind them echoing throughout the building as they climbed the stairs up to Ops. The sliding doors glided open automatically as the agents came near, stepping through as their unease grew with every stride. They took their places in the secluded room, Kensi and Deeks leaning against the table while Sam stood front and center, ready to face whatever was on those cameras. Hazarding a look at their two techs, Deeks could only see remorse in their eyes, and considering they've had plenty of time to review the footage while they drove back, his apprehension increased even more.

"Play it." Sam ordered, briefly choosing determination over reluctance.

Hetty watched from the shadows of the operations center as the screen came to life, displaying the basement they'd entered not too long ago. At first, nothing happened, then the sound of a slamming door and heavy footsteps caught their attention. A few seconds later a few huge men wearing dark masks dragged an unconscious Callen down the few remaining steps.

"They were there last night." Sam declared, barely recognizing his voice. The others remained silent, glued to the screen watching the only lead they have play out in front of them.

The men ungracefully dropped him onto the concrete in the center of the room, tied his arms and legs together, and left the basement without saying a word, stomping their way up the stairs as they left the agent alone.

Eric fast-forwarded the footage from there while his teammates studied the agents still bleeding form and the slowly increasing puddle emerging from beneath him over the hours. Eric played the footage again as Callen stirred, and the team stood breathless as they watched their leader struggling to wake up and take in his surroundings. The sight made Sam's guilt momentarily subside as anger took over, anger for whoever was causing his partner's suffering.

Callen eventually scooted himself over to the wall, resting his head against it. They could clearly see his wound, which thankfully wasn't bleeding as badly as before. As he struggled to get his breathing under control, a layer of sweat glistened on his forehead reflecting the overhead florescent lights, which signaled an oncoming infection. They watched him sit there, grudgingly waiting for his abductors to return. Another fast-forward brought them several hours later when Callen finally moved, lifting his head as three men also in masks quickly advanced down the stairs.

The men grabbed Callen and drove a needle into his neck, ceasing his hopeless attempt to free himself. They hauled him upstairs and only an hour later did they return with him, once again leaving the agent trapped. They knew more lay ahead of them to watch so they didn't stray their focus; increasing their attention to detail instead.

Eric skipped forward at a slower pace this time, stopping nearly twenty minutes later. Again, Callen was hauled up the stairs, but further study of the video showed he was never returned to the basement.

Without word, Eric switched camera feeds to one from the front of the house. The footage showed when Callen and the men arrived late at night, but nothing else changed on the screen until Eric played the feed from a few hours ago. A dark sedan missing plates pulled up next to the van, revealing a lone man dressed in dark clothes entering the house. His face was completely hidden from the camera's view. Not long after arriving, he came back outside, all five men from last night following him.

A sharp intake of breath was heard throughout the otherwise dead silent Ops center as a bruised Callen came on screen dragged by a couple of the huge men. A pin drop could echo like a gunshot in the silence overwhelming the agents watching their helpless friend. The mystery man opened his trunk as those behind him stood nearby. They knew there were two reasons for the opened trunk; either they were changing locations or Callen was being sent to a more permanent place. As Callen was brought into the trunk and the unknown man pulled out a gun, the anxiety and worry that had consumed the agents all day transformed into fear, absolute fear.

The image was ingrained in their brains as they witnessed the double pull of the trigger, the flash from the muzzle reflecting against the dark sedan as two bullets flew toward their friend, impacting the center of his chest. The loud gunshots reverberated throughout the Ops center, to be heard again in their haunting dreams.

Shock. That was the only word to describe what they all felt, what Sam felt. It was right in front of them, the sight of their fearless leader lying dead in a trunk, but their minds simply couldn't accept it.

This wasn't what was supposed to happen. This wasn't how it ended. This was there promising lead. They were supposed to find him alive. He was supposed to just hang on and trust that they'd save him, then they'd once again be subjected to his stubbornness, his cheeky attitude, his lone wolf tendencies. They'd soon hear him arguing with Sam about the most inconsequential things or avoiding topics relating to health or meeting someone. They'd take part in his brilliant plans and see him face danger with ease only to be unsettled by Hetty's threats because of her ruined wardrobe. They'd witness him one day finally get the answers he's looking for.

However, the truth was in front of them. That day wasn't coming. Those conversations would never happen.

The team looked on in hatred as the men climbed into the van and followed the man who killed their teammate, all heading in the opposite direction they came. Once the vehicles drove out of sight, the screen went black as Eric hesitantly powered off the screen. Him and Nell had seen the footage barely an hour ago, but had simply blocked it out as they focused on catching them; tracing the vehicles, enhancing the audio, trying to identify anyone, and of course checking its authenticity. However, they didn't find any discrepancies, and now that they were standing here with the rest of the team, the reality had set in for them both.

They'd held it in until now, and their remorse and feeling of failure now were overpowering. After a simple explanation of its authenticity, the fact that the house was indeed abandoned, and the lack of any further leads or a way to catch them despite kaleidoscope looking for them, he took his seat next to Nell and turned away from the rest of the team, unwilling to see their faces or for them to see his.

Nell remained in her chair, recognizing the cruel injustice the world could bring. She too felt like she had failed Callen, that all of her knowledge was useless when it came to saving him. She stared blankly at the screen, wishing it was all a sick dream; but she was smarter than that, she knew this cruelty was reality.

Hetty had quietly watched everything transpire from the back of the Operation center. She wasn't with her techs the first time, but she knew the moment she saw their faces that her son was gone. She had tirelessly tried to help him, to steer him in the right direction. She worked to teach him the art of trusting others, leadership, and that family didn't just mean blood. With no children of her own, she took him under her wing as if he was hers, but despite her efforts, she couldn't change the family trend. She had stayed until her agents had returned and faced the reality with them, but now that they all knew, she couldn't stay in the room any longer. She couldn't save Clara, and now she couldn't save her son whom she vowed to protect.

Kensi's world came crashing down on her as she watched her big brother die in a trunk. Her past ran through her minds in seconds, playing images of her father, her fiancé, and her partner. They all meant so much to her, and they all suddenly disappeared from her life, taking too much of her trust with them. She had built her walls stronger and thicker each time to compensate, never showing her emotions to someone in fear that history would repeat. However, her team were the few people she allowed herself to care about. Losing another person, another man in her life who was her brother within a day was too much of a test for her trust to gamble with.

Deeks ran his fingers over the glass, coming to terms with the fact that the person he looked up to was gone. Once he saw the flashes of the gun, he looked downwards at the glowing table in front of him, refusing to watch any more. He knew what it meant, two shots in the heart didn't leave much doubt. Deeks had long ago recognized the parallels he had with their leader. Callen had come from similar experiences that he did, and had risen above it all to become one of the best undercover operatives that Deeks had aspired to be since he joined his team. He was proof that the past didn't matter when it came to the difference that he could make. Now, the one who seemed invincible had fallen.

Sam froze in terror as he watched his partner die in front of him. After so many years of escapes, close-calls, and saves, this time he couldn't hold up his end of the deal; he wasn't there to drag him back. They were partners and were supposed to keep the other alive no matter what. He had developed a strong trust with this man who couldn't and wouldn't rely on anyone when they first met seven years ago. Eventually, his partner had let him in and trusted him, and today Sam had failed him. Sam grew angry, angry at what life had dealt him and his partner. However, he didn't look away and watched every second play out until the screen went black. He owed him that much.

The team members in Ops were quiet for several moments; processing their reality as their minds ran with their thoughts and emotions. Once Eric updated them on the lack of content and sat in his desk, Sam tore his eyes away from the screen and abruptly left, no doubt headed for the gym. The automatic doors hadn't even shut before Hetty emerged from the back of the room. She slowly walked out of Ops without as much as a glance toward her team, off to who knows where in a very Hetty-like way.

Several more moments passed with only small sniffles coming from Nell disturbing the silence. She and Eric both faced their computers away, from the junior agents. Soon, Kensi pushed herself off the table she'd been leaning on and straightened her posture, quickly leaving the room.

Deeks watched after her, debating whether to follow. Instead of going after her, he held his position, deciding that she needed some time alone. He'd come later and talk with her, but she needed time to process and calm down. He looked back down at his hands, running through everything that happened in a mere day as his fingers slowly traced circles on the table.

* * *

His vision slowly became clearer as he blinked the dizziness away and focused his eyes. His efforts didn't make much of a difference as he realized he was in almost complete darkness. The hole in his shoulder still radiated pain throughout the rest of his sore body, but it had thankfully subsided to a dull throb. Sweat covered his skin; whether it was from the hot, stuffy, air or a result of a growing infection, he didn't know. His breathing had gotten better, however he was in a much smaller space than he last recalled.

The last thing he remembered he was still in that musty, old basement. Blurry images of being dragged and in another room upstairs lingered in his mind, but he couldn't remember much as he was probably drugged. As he tried to sort out his memory, a small bump shook the space he was in, and he realized he was in the trunk of a car.

He had no idea what was happening or where he was and he tested his arms and legs to see if they were still bound. They were, but his chest started to flare up as the movement aggravated his wound. A small trickle of liquid from his chest fell until it sat in the crevice of his neck, and Callen realized that it was too far to the left to be from his shoulder. He wondered if he had acquired another injury, but in the very faint light coming through the cracks of the trunk, he could make out dark stains in the center of his chest. Knowing he couldn't be faring this well with two more gunshots, he strained his eyes as he studied the blotches of dark liquid, his face twisting in confusion. After several moments, he came to the conclusion that he'd been shot with fake bullets and blood.

He couldn't understand why his captors would fake a shooting, and he still didn't know why he was here or who they even were. The only thing he knew was he was in a much larger mess than he originally thought.

* * *

A/N: You didn't think I'd do that to you, did you? ;) Please review! They make me happy and motivated!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Here's the next one. A huge thank you to all the lovely reviews and everyone who's reading this. Sorry if the warning for the last chapter kind of spoiled the surprise, I didn't want anyone to get upset, even though I could never kill Callen, I love him too much ;). Speaking of Callen, there isn't a lot of him right now but that will change very soon.

I wrote this when I was tired, so any mistakes are mine. Now, on with the chapter!

* * *

The pounding echoed throughout the gym, the repetitive motion creating a chorus of beats as his arms impacted with each thrust. Sweat rolled down his face and neck as his mind wandered to the reason behind his most recent attack on the punching bag, each swing increasing with the pent-up anger and sorrow he couldn't hold back any longer.

XX

The phone lightly clicked as it settled into its receiver. Hetty heaved a great sigh as she set the phone down, having just gotten off with the director. It had been almost an hour since they'd all watched the video of her agent being killed, and the news was already taking its toll on her. She set her tea cup aside, having long since gone cold as she had tried to think of the best way to inform Vance. The phone call had made the situation all the more real, as if speaking the words out loud had made it true. Of course, she want to believe it; but with the way the mission had been going, any false hope could only do more damage to her crumbling team. She had a feeling Eric and Nell wouldn't get very far in locating the suspects as they'd done an exceptional job at covering their tracks.

For once, she didn't have an answer. She was not one to give up easily, but the only evidence they had was that her agent was dead. Nothing they had could suggest otherwise, no matter how hard she wished for something to confirm her doubt. The best they could do at this point is track where that sedan went.

This all made her feel so useless. She wasn't used to this; usually there had been someway or someone she could persuade that would help her team out of tough situations, but there was nothing for her to work with. She started to consider a certain letter hidden within her desk, but soon decided on waiting a few more days till she knew for certain. She slowly stood and went to make a fresh pot of tea. With all the calls she still had to make, she could tell there would be no end in sight for this exhausting day.

XX

The doors of the Ops room whooshed open, sending a gust of cold air into the room as Deeks finally made his way out. Eric and Nell had been trying to find the sedan or the van; basically any leads that their agents could follow up on. They knew their attempts were half-hearted though. The two techs couldn't stop thinking about the video and how no amount of searching or analyzing they did could reverse a bullet.

When he knew they were finally alone, Eric snuck a glance toward Nell. Her eyes were red and her face was set in a firm line, no doubt trying to work through her emotions to concentrate on the screen in front of her.

"Are you okay?" It was a dumb question, one Eric regretted the moment he said it, but he couldn't stop himself from asking it.

Nell stopped typing, looking down and placing her hands in her lap. "Are you?" She spoke in a quiet voice.

Eric cleared his throat and looked away. "Right, dumb question."

"It isn't."

"Isn't what?"

"A dumb question. And, thanks." Nell tipped her head up toward Eric, offering a small smile. Her eyes were dull, showing none of the usual sparkle that matched her smile. Eric returned her smile, but much like Nell's it didn't reach his eyes.

Everyone knew, whether it had to be said or not, that they represented more of the human side of the team. They were the more innocent ones who didn't put themselves in harm's way on a daily basis and didn't have to do questionable things to get the job done. As a result, the youngest members were also usually a little more carefree than the rest. They brought a positive energy to the rest that, along with Deeks, kept them balanced and a little more grounded.

In this kind of situation, however, they never could keep up the same kind of attitude. They hated the fact that whenever their agents went out they could only pray that they'd all come back, and that sometimes they didn't. They'd feel as if they had failed their job of having their backs. When one of their own didn't make it back, the team was never quite the same.

Unfortunately, it looked as if another one of those fearful days was here. Eric's computer pinged, interrupting the silence that had settled between them. After tapping a few keys, another search was signaling its lack of results found.

XX

Deeks quietly left Ops after shaking his thoughts aside. He was climbing down the stairs when a small huddle near the mission's doors caught his eye. Recognizing it, he walked over and sat down next to his partner, not saying a word as Kensi kept he head in her knees, arms wrapped around her legs.

A few minutes passed before Kensi lifted her head, face raw from her emotions finally getting the better of her. She stared straight ahead of her.

"Why does this always happen?" she whispered, sounding a little lost.

"Kens," Deeks started.

"Everyone I care about leaves me."

"Kensi, this is not because of you." He turned her chin towards him, catching her eyes. "Hey, listen to me. Callen didn't want this, none of us did. He didn't leave by choice, this just happened. You're still his favorite agent," Deeks paused, "and I know you know how much that means considering how he and Sam are."

A small smile grew on Kensi's lips. Slowly though, it turned sad as she realized what he said.

"You're right, he didn't choose this; we just didn't try hard enough."

"You know that's not true, Kens. We worked up until the last second, and I'm sure he knew we'd do everything to find him. He wouldn't blame any one of us."

She sighed, knowing he was right. She turned her head away from her partner, looking towards their desks in the bullpen. Dozens of mornings and cases and paperwork with her team passed through her mind, knowing that it would all change now; they were one short.

XX

Hetty quietly approached as her senior agent beat the punching bag tirelessly in the dim light consuming the gym. She moved around so she could be seen, observing the exhaustion radiating off of him. Sam ignored her and continued to punch and kick harder, sweat dripping off with every movement.

"Sam." No response, he continued attacking the heavy bag.

"Sam." She spoke again, raising her voice over the noise of the impact. Finally, Sam relented and stopped to turn toward her.

Hetty in no way or form wanted to do this, but she knew someone had to do it. It was best if it was her. She took a calming breath. "Eric and Nell followed any leads they could find, no matter how slim. Other than kaleidoscope continuing to search for the vehicles, there are no further leads we can pursue." She sighed and looked down towards her hands clasped in front of her.

Sam looked like he was ready to argue and shout and tear down every wall in sight until he could find where he was and whoever had done this. Hetty simply raised her hand and met his eyes.

"Go home, Sam. There's nothing else we can do."

Sam held his stance for a few seconds before he eventually gave in, releasing the tension in his shoulders and looking away from his boss. Without word, Hetty turned around and walked out, her steps echoing throughout the silent gym. Sam didn't move until he knew she was gone. He grabbed the bag and leaned against it, catching his breath. Sweat dripped off his forehead and left tracks down his face, mixing with the silent tears that traced downward as they fell.

He pushed off the punching bag, grabbed his water, and walked out.

* * *

Callen slowly woke up, dazed and confused as he realized he'd passed out again. _I've got to stop doing that,_ he thought. He struggled to sit up on the firm bed he laid on. He realized he was still in his running shorts and shirtless, a bandage over his gunshot. It still throbbed and burned, but he wasn't feeling the effects of the infection anymore. Looking around, he noticed he was in a small room with plain white walls, a door opposite of him. A sink and mirror and a small counter occupied the rest of the space; making it look like he was in a makeshift hospital room.

He moved to stand and try to escape when he noticed the IV in his right hand. Just as he was reaching to pull it out, the door burst open, revealing a tall brunette in a white coat.

"Don't pull it out. You'll regret it if you do." Callen grew a skeptical look as he observed the woman, but left the tube alone. A man dressed in all black followed her standing in the doorway. He sent a silent warning to Callen, who returned the glare just as quickly.

The woman who Callen presumed to be a doctor walked up to him and checked his bandages, showing no reaction in her face. She walked over to the machine next to Callen's bed and checked its readings, Callen following her every movement as he eyed the guard. Suddenly, she turned toward him and spoke.

"Your shoulder should heal fine. The antibiotics are fighting the infection and it should be gone within the next couple days." She pulled off her gloves, each one making a loud snapping sound as they came off. "Keep that IV in." She added sharply. She turned around and in no time she and the guard were gone, the sound of a deadbolt echoing in the tiny room.

Callen looked around, feeling frustrated and as lost as ever. He hated not being in control; being clueless and at the mercy of others. He wished he'd at least know who was behind this, who'd go through all the trouble to fake his shooting, especially if they'd already shot him in his shoulder. Most importantly though, he needed to find a way to escape or contact his team; surely they were looking for him.

Quickly, his mind made the connection. Did they stage the shooting so his team would think he was dead? So they'd stop looking? Did they already believe he was dead? It was the only reason he could think of, but it would suggest that whoever was behind this knew him and how to find him. This thought worried him; for there were many enemies out there who'd have more than enough motive and means to plan revenge. But why give him antibiotics? Why patch him up? It could only mean he'd be here awhile.

Dread started to build up in his gut as he weighed the possibilities and the small of chance of escape. He had no idea how many people were wherever he was, but if he was right about one of his enemies orchestrating this, it'd make it significantly harder to find a way out.

* * *

Next chapter we meet the man behind this, and there's more Callen. Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This chapters a little shorter but the cut off for the next chapter is perfect. Finally, the plot is picking up :). I'll try to not make you wait so long, as I know waiting is really hard for me. Please leave a review! Thank you all for reading.

* * *

Callen had stayed in the same makeshift hospital room for a few days, and with great reluctance, he had decided it was best to just wait it out and let his shoulder heal. He'd quickly determined he couldn't pick the lock and make his escape; for the room was practically bare of anything he could use and the odds of success weren't great even if he hadn't been injured. So, he preserved his strength and kept his mind sharp; running through the many different possibilities and scenarios he could imagine to get a handle on his situation. He couldn't help but think Sam would be amazed that he'd actually stayed in his 'hospital' bed. He'd always tried to leave hospitals as soon as he was conscious. Luckily though, his IV had already been taken out by the strange nurse, so he didn't have to endure the needle for too long.

Callen immediately lifted his head as the door creaked open and interrupted his thoughts. His senses were on high alert as two of the armed guards entered, one of them carrying something in their hands. They approached Callen and dropped a set of clothes on the foot of his bed, telling him he had two minutes to change before they hastily left.

Callen followed their every move until the door shut behind them, wary of the change in routine from the past few days; however he quickly stood and changed into the clothes provided for him. He didn't want to miss what could be his only chance to change and end up being stuck in only his running shorts. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a simple black T-shirt, the clothes fitting surprisingly well against his body.

Not long after he'd finished getting dressed had the guards returned. The taller of the two stepped forward.

"Let's go", he tersely ordered, grabbing Callen's arm and hauling him out of the room, the other guard leading the way. The three of them entered a bright, long hallway, with several doors on each wall. Callen was positioned in between them. Noticing no one else in the hallway, he figured this was his best shot at escape.

Callen quickly spun around and flew his fist into the taller guard's nose, sending him flying backwards. Within a split second, he turned to meet the surprised guard in front of him, sending a couple well-placed kicks into the man's chest. He began to turn towards the taller guard to finish him off and grab his gun when another guard came out of an adjourning room, tackling Callen harshly to the ground.

Callen hastily tried to fight him off, but the two guards soon recovered and aided the man attempting to restrain him. Callen was pulled up and quickly led to the end of the hallway, the anger and frustration at his failed attempt evident in his eyes. He was taken down a couple more hallways and a flight of stairs before entering a small concrete room without windows, a small light illuminating the mattress strewn in the back corner.

Callen was released onto the unforgiving floor, landing on his back near the mattress. He sat upright and noticed the guards moving toward the door, surrounding the entryway on either side. Callen waited in anticipation, when suddenly a voice out of his past echoed in the hallway, chilling him to the bone.

"G. Callen. Wow, it's truly an honor to see you again."

A man stepped through the doorway, and even though Callen could barely make out his features in the poor lighting, he knew it was him. Outwardly, his demeanor barely changed, but the fear and hostility he felt churned inside of him, his blue eyes flashing with a hint of resentment.

"Now how many years has it been? Fifteen? That's certainly a long time." He took a few more steps into the room until Callen could clearly see him, his smug smile matching the cocky tone he spoke with.

"Iverson." Callen spat, meeting the other man's eyes. He looked different than when Callen saw him last. He was taller and more muscular than before, his tanned skin and short brown hair complementing his light green eyes. Iverson was wearing a black suit, a golden watch on his wrist as his hands rested inside of his pockets. His appearance had changed, but he still had the same arrogant, cold smile as he looked down at Callen.

"Last names? Whatever happened to Scott? Now, I know you don't have a first name but most people go by their first. You are a hard man to find by the way; well not as hard as me, but I'm impressed. It's taken my people months to track you down."

"You seem to have a lot of resources at your disposal, the world of treason and betrayal treating you well I see?" Callen challenged, raising his eyebrows.

"These past years have been good to me Callen," he admitted, "but I could also say the same for you. Your own team? And a stellar one too. Unfortunately, their dedication to you makes this all a little harder, but that will all be fixed soon enough," he rambled. The idea that he knew about his team unnerved Callen, especially given what Iverson had done in the past.

"They'll think your dead," he continued, using his hands as he spoke, "and you, my friend, will make a deal for me that will let me go into early retirement. It's perfect, you see," he smiled.

"What makes you think I'll do anything for you?"

"Oh, come on, Callen. If I can get to you I can certainly find your team! I couldn't care less about them, but it's all up to you on what happens to them. I'm surprised, though; I thought you'd certainly never work with anyone again," he paused, feigning curiosity. "Oh well, you don't really have to worry about that now, and I really don't have much time to stay here and chat with you. Need to set the next stage of my plan in motion." He turned around and walked towards the door, the guards filing out of the room in front of him.

"In the meantime, make yourself comfortable," he threw over his shoulder, before abruptly stopping in the doorway and turning to face Callen.

"Oh, and I wouldn't try anything else if I were you. Wouldn't want anything to happen to that loyal partner of yours, would we?" he hinted, the dim light creating an eerie, ghostlike smile as he stared back at Callen. Hatred flashed in Callen's eyes at Iverson's suggestion, silently warning him to not go near any of them. His look would make any other person's blood run cold, but Iverson simply chuckled and slammed the door shut, locking Callen in his prison.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Okay, so this was supposed to be only half of this chapter but I'm going out of town now without my laptop until Saturday and figured you'd rather have half than none at all. Callen POV when I get back! Please leave a review, I really appreciate them, they make my day!

* * *

Sam pulled up the mission, parking his Challenger in its spot near the large wooden doors. He turned off the engine, sighing as he remained in the car. He looked over to the passenger side, an assortment of takeout bags occupying its seat.

Four months.

Four months to the day, he thought, since his best friend had disappeared. No matter what Sam had seen, he couldn't believe Callen was dead. He just knew he wasn't. Call it a gut instinct, partner's intuition, whatever. Deep down, he didn't believe it.

Even after weeks had passed with no information on where Callen or his kidnappers had ended up, and the case was labeled cold, Sam hadn't stopped looking. He had used his free time and took some long weekends to chase down even the slimmest of leads he'd found, always turning up empty. The rest of the team let him be, knowing nothing could stand in Sam's way. As reluctant as they all were, they had eventually resigned to the fact that Callen was gone. They knew Sam wasn't convinced, but they decided it was best to let him come to terms with it himself.

Once the case was declared cold, Sam naturally assumed the role of team leader. The criminals wouldn't stop because they lost a team member. So they moved on to the next case, and the next, and the next. Kaleidoscope still ran in the background of Ops, looking for his killers, but as time went on they stopped asking Eric for any results.

During the first few weeks, Sam could tell Hetty was ready to leave; for the news about Callen had hit her hard. He knew the team would fall apart with her also gone, and he couldn't bear for that to happen. The rest of the team depended on her guidance and wisdom, now more than ever. She seemed to be there for her agents, but Sam could tell that Hetty didn't plan on being at the mission for much longer.

He had kept an eye on her afterwards (as much as anyone could when it came to Hetty), however as time went on, she was still around and in charge of OSP. One night after a case, Sam was headed out when Hetty called him over. She had noticed him watching her for weeks and had asked what was on his mind. Sam expressed his confusion over Hetty's initial reactions and admitted he had been worried she would resign.

Hetty revealed that she was going to resign, getting as far as having her letter ready to hand over to the director. She continued to explain that she was reminded of how Callen had stopped her from doing the same thing many years before, and the memory had made her reconsider her decision. Hetty explained that she knew Callen wouldn't want her to leave their team behind. She decided that she needed to stop running from the situations she'd always feared and knew she should stay for the sake of her agents. Ultimately, Sam was relieved by her answer and agreed that it was what Callen would want her to do, however, he was still concerned and inadvertently still kept an eye on her since.

Sam's phone rang, bringing him out of his reverie and into the present. He dug his phone out of his pocket and cleared his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, you back with the food yet? Kensi is starting to get cranky."

"Deeks!"

"Okay, make that _is_ cranky." Deeks winced.

"I'm outside, be there in a minute." Sam replied

"Awesome, thanks."

Sam ended the call, sighed, and grabbed the bags of food. He exited his car and walked through the doors of the mission.

He entered to find the two partners arguing, chuckling to himself. There hadn't been as many times that they'd all banter or laugh together in the past four months. The bullpen was often times silent rather than filled with their usual conversations, so it was nice to see his teammates acting normally.

"Stop lying, I know you stole it." Kensi accused.

"Why would I steal it?"

"To make me angry."

"Why would I want to do that? I'm not crazy!" Deeks asked, exasperated.

"What did he do this time?" Sam pushed, smiling lightly.

"I didn't do anything!"

"He stole my last twinkie from my desk." Kensi declared.

"I don't even like them! Are you sure you didn't eat it?"

Kensi glared at him.

"Okay, okay, well I didn't take it. Hey, maybe new guy over here took it." Deeks, trying to deflect the blame, pointed over to the new agent sitting next to Kensi, trying remain unnoticed. Kensi tilted her head and squinted her eyes toward the man next to her. He had been there only a couple months, since Director Vance finally made them choose a replacement for Sam to work with. The three of them had pushed it off as long as they could, but eventually they chose Evan Campbell, a medium height, dark-haired agent who'd started in San Diego a few years ago.

He was a junior agent with potential and proved to be a good shot. None of them held anything against him personally, but the three of them had a rocky start with him replacing Callen and quickly they all learned it was best if they stuck to business only with him. In turn, Campbell learned not to ask any questions about the agent he replaced after one too many angry glares sent his way.

Over the months, Sam, Kensi, and Deeks had grown closer as a team since they'd lost their leader. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, they each had depended on the others throughout the months and looked out for each other. They also had backed each other up when it came to dealing with their new teammate in the beginning, like whenever he would get curious about the agent no one would mention around him. Soon though, he learned his place and eventually got to the point where they could work cases together, but nothing more.

Campbell looked at Kensi, his eyes widening at her look. "Nope, no way. I'm not that stupid." He looked back at his computer, finishing up a report.

Kensi's eyes narrowed further and she looked back at her partner.

Choosing to spare Deeks, Sam drew Kensi's attention. "Kensi, I'm sure he will buy you a whole box of twinkies later," he started, sending Deeks a look as he spoke, "but for now, I brought back lunch."

Sam held up one of the bags in his hand, offering it to her. She contemplated a second before getting up from her desk and retrieving her food, Deeks sending a silent thank you toward Sam as she walked. Sam handed out the rest of the lunches. They ate in silence, working on their respective stacks of paperwork for the next few hours until Eric called them up to Ops for their next case.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Hey! I'm back from my vacation, just took a few days to get this chapter up. I hope it fills in some of the gaps I left last week, and some of your questions will be answered. Italics are past tense, and you can assume the dialogue is Russian.

* * *

Callen sat on the filthy mattress, his back and head resting against the wall as he breathed heavily. He'd just finished a modified version of his normal workout, knowing how important it was to stay fit and strong. Scratch marks adorned the wall behind him, indicating how long he'd been stuck there. Assuming he was given only one meal a day, Callen estimated he'd been there for about four months.

Once it became clear that he would be there awhile, Callen's training took over. He did his best to stay healthy physically and mentally, but he knew now that even he couldn't keep it up forever. The filth in his prison had slowly intensified and his hair had become too long for his liking. He had been held in less than stellar health conditions and with the lack of proper nutrition he figured he'd probably lost some weight too.

Callen had grown restless as the number of marks he made on the wall continue to grow. He'd hoped to some degree that his team would figure it out and find him, but as time went on he realized they probably believed he was dead. He wondered how they were doing. Had they already moved on? Were they still at least looking? His thoughts soon wandered to his partner, the one person who hadn't given up on him when he wanted to give up himself. Did he believe it too? Did he already find a new, better partner?

Callen quickly dismissed his last question. He knew Sam thought he was annoying and irritating at times, but he should know his partner better. Sam wouldn't let it go and wouldn't believe anything until he had undeniable proof in front of him. If anything, he was probably following up leads when he wasn't being forced to work with a new partner that he hadn't managed to scare off.

He'd tried to keep his mind occupied by practicing various languages and going over old operations, but many times his mind wandered to his team. When he arrived at NCIS, he preferred to work alone, but as the years went by he learned to depend on them and work as a team. Now, they were the only thing giving him hope that he could get out of this mess, and the idea that Sam wouldn't stop looking was enough for him to keep holding on.

He didn't have many options anyway; he either had to wait for his team to find him or find a way out once Iverson decided to put whatever plan he had in motion. Countless times, Callen had pondered over why he was here and what Iverson was planning. When it came to Iverson, it could be anything, for he was as unpredictable as Callen. In contrast though, Iverson was focused on making a profit; that was undeniable.

Hatred for the man from his past distracted him. Before Callen knew it, he lost himself in the memories.

_Callen, despite his age, was already one of the best undercover agents for the CIA. He was undercover in Moscow as Nikolai Krymov, a powerful Russian arms dealer looking to work with Alexsandr Novikov. Novikov was involved in everything from artillery to human trafficking, but he was careful and the CIA didn't have enough evidence to arrest him, so naturally they would send in their best undercover that speaks Russian. They also sent in his partner and good friend, Scott Iverson, as his case handler. _

_After a few months, Novikov highly regarded his new business partner and Callen became good friends with him. Just when Callen was close to completing a deal with their buyers and calling in the cavalry, everything that could go wrong, did. _

_Moscow: June, 1999_

_Nikolai Krymov entered the huge warehouse, looking for the buyers he was supposed to meet with to discuss the details of the exchange the next day._

_"Aliyev! Are you here?" He shouted in perfect Russian as he looked around, his voice echoing in the desolate warehouse. _

_He heard a sound behind him and before he could react, the muzzle of a gun appeared against the back of his neck. _

_"Ah, Agent Callen, so nice of you to join us," Aliyev, the one with the gun against him, countered. Callen's face had the slightest reaction, but otherwise remained neutral. The two other men with Aliyev walked around to face him._

_"I don't understand what you are saying." Callen tried. _

_"I know you are CIA, don't even try to deny it. Your partner, Scott, is the one who informed us, for a small exchange, of course." Callen's eyes widened a fraction, but it was enough for the Russian to notice. "Looks like both of us should really be more careful of the people we work with." _

_Callen slipped his hand inside his pocket discreetly, pushing a series of numbers into his burn phone. Thankfully, the small movement went unnoticed as Aliyev started leading him forward with the gun still pressed against his neck. They arrived in a small office on the opposite side of the warehouse. Callen was pushed into a chair as the two men tied his hands to the armrests. _

_"Now, Agent Callen, this is simple. I only need to know what the CIA knows about us and if there are any more undercover agents we should know about." Callen sent him a cold glare in return, but remained silent. _

_Aliyev sighed. "Oh, Agent Callen, I really wish you would've chose differently." A fist suddenly came flying towards Callen's face. _

The next few hours were a blur for Callen, and in hindsight, he really couldn't remember much of what happened at all until a CIA extraction team showed up. When they finally traced his agent-in-distress signal and secured the buyers, they found him with several broken ribs, numerous bruises, knife slashes, a stab wound in his right thigh, and a fractured left radius.

He was pulled out of the operation and medically evacuated to a top facility in Vienna. After several weeks in the hospital, he was flown back to the states and debriefed by his director. Callen was informed that they had been looking for Iverson since he was rescued, but there had been no sign of him. He had quickly disappeared once he burned Callen and could be anywhere in the world. They determined that Callen's alias was only burned to the buyers, but the CIA chose to terminate it, deciding it was too risky. They faked the death of Nikolai Krymov, and the case was closed. Even with all the evidence Callen collected, it still wasn't enough and Novikov got away.

Callen wasn't home even a week before he resigned, looking to join another alphabet agency and get as far away as he could from the betrayal by his partner. He made his own decision to always work alone after that, and his trust was rarely seen by anyone.

It wasn't until he came across Hetty that he allowed himself to work with or trust anyone. The risk had been worth it as his partner and team proved to be reliable time and time again, but Iverson was never seen nor heard from again, at least until now. One thing Callen could never understand is how Iverson could betray him for money.

_Speak of the devil, _he thought. The sound of a doorknob turning disturbed his thoughts. Callen pulled himself out of the memories and was on high alert as the door began to creak open, creating a deafening noise in the never-ending silence he'd been in for four months. His internal clock told him it wasn't time for his meal yet, which meant Iverson could finally be changing the game. He sat up and watched as the door slowly opened.

* * *

"What do we have Eric?" Sam asked as they walked through the automatic doors of the Ops center.

"Dead marine, on leave from Afghanistan." The team took their places in front of the screen as his picture came up.

"He has been working on a classified project over there, but returned to the States three weeks ago," Nell picked up. "He was found dead in an alley late last night."

"Director Vance is concerned his death could be related to this classified project he's been working on," Eric continued. "He wants us to find his killers quickly and determine whether or not the project is compromised."

"Alright, his file says he was married," Sam observed, "Kensi, Deeks, go interview her. Campbell and I will try to find out what exactly he was working on. Eric, Nell, go through everyone he came in contact with since returning on leave."

The team split up to investigate; however, the case proved to be less exciting than they thought. When Kensi and Deeks arrived at the house to interview his wife, she seemed more nervous than devastated while they spoke to her. They decided to bring her to the boatshed, and it didn't take long for her to confess.

They found out from her that her husband was cheating on her since he returned. She confronted him last night and in a rage she hit him over the head with a lamp, killing him. She didn't know what to do, so she dumped his body in an alley and returned to the house to clean the blood out of her carpet.

Quickly, the team wrapped up the case and the director was pleased that the project he had been working on wasn't compromised. It was Friday and Hetty decided to let them leave early. With that, Campbell quickly left for the day. The rest of the team hadn't left yet and Kensi saw the opportunity for them to spend some time together.

Eric and Nell were making their way down the stairs when Kensi called out, "Hey, anyone want to grab dinner?"

"Sure." Eric said.

"I'm in." Nell piped.

"Definitely, I'm starving." Deeks announced.

Noticing she was one short of a response, she turned toward Sam. "Sam, what about you?"

"Nah, I'm good. Still have some paperwork to finish." Sam shrugged as he picked up a file. Kensi looked at him and considered his response for a minute, but figured she wouldn't change his mind.

"Alright, but call us if you decide to join us after all," she said. Sam smiled and nodded in return. Kensi, Deeks, Eric, and Nell all left together, leaving Sam alone in the silent mission.

Once it was quiet, Sam sighed and put the file back on his desk. He looked around the quiet bullpen, wondering how his life had come to this. Michelle had taken their kids to visit their grandparents, and he had no other plans. He should be out spending time with his team, not making excuses and spending his Friday night alone, but team outings had just never been the same.

Sam decided he needed some time to think, so he packed up his things and left the mission, locking up behind him. He got in his challenger and drove in silence, unsure of his destination. He watched the cars and streets of Los Angeles pass by, until he found himself driving up a familiar street. He barely realized what he was doing until he parked his challenger in a driveway. He sat in his car and stared at the house, until finally he got out and walked up to the front door, pulling the key out of the flower pot.

A few times in the past months he found himself visiting here. Despite Hetty's attempts to convince him, Sam wouldn't allow Callen's house to be sold, telling her that if he's still alive and returns, he'd want his house back. Hetty finally relented, but told Sam it was up to him to look after it. The house ended up being a place he came to when he needed to think, or when he was frustrated that despite his searching he couldn't find anything about who had him or where he was.

Sam entered the house and walked through it, making sure everything was still where it belonged. Once he finished, he sat in the lone armchair in the front room.

He went over in his mind the leads he searched out, the places he's looked, and the options he's considered. He knew that even if Callen was alive before, the chances of finding him alive now were slim to none, but as Sam sat in his partner's house, he felt even stronger than ever that Callen wasn't dead. He didn't know how, but he knew it, and he also had a feeling that he was running out of time to find him. He just needed something, anything to point him in the right direction; and he needed it soon.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Very sorry for the delay, my computer has been acting up and once I fixed it I had barely any time to write. Don't worry about me never updating again, though, I can't ever leave a story unfinished. Thank you for sticking with me through the story, I appreciate it immensely.

You'll be glad to hear we finally get to find out WHY in this chapter, and what lies ahead for our team leader. Please leave a review! They mean so much to me!

* * *

The door creaked open, illuminating Callen's filthy prison. Callen turned his eyes toward the door to catch one of the guards entering, the one he'd nicknamed Thor after he'd quickly gotten to know Iverson's men. He was a tall, well-built man with straggly blonde hair almost to his shoulders. His appearance, however, was always graced with a permanent scowl whenever Callen saw him. Thor stepped through the door and motioned for Callen to stand. Callen obliged, stretching out his sore back, and Thor quickly walked over, grabbing his shoulder and leading him out of the room.

_This is it_, Callen thought, _Iverson is showing his hand. Time to find a way out of this._

He was led down the bright hallway through a doorway on his left, where they went through a small room into an adjourning bathroom.

Thor released him and pointed to the counter; a set of clothes, a towel, a bar of soap, and a razor laying on it.

"Shower, change, shave." Thor said in a monotone that would put Granger's to shame. He turned around and shut the door.

Callen watched the door close, sighing in frustration. He leaned against the bathroom counter and hung his head, slightly wiggling his chin back and forth as his mind raced. After a moment, he straightened up and caught sight of himself in the mirror. He barely recognized his reflection.

He was covered in filth; that he already knew. His clothes were laden with dirt and sweat stains, and he guessed he didn't smell that great either. He looked paler, and despite his efforts to stay in shape he'd still lost some weight. His hair was overgrown and a beard covered his face, but what surprised him were his eyes. At that moment, the usual bright color was more of a deep ocean blue. Dark circles accompanied them, and overall he looked slightly worse for the wear.

Pushing away from the mirror, Callen undressed and stepped into the shower. He washed his body with the bar of soap he'd been given, using the scalding water to scrub hard at the layers of filth on his skin and doing his best to rinse the grease out of his hair. He stood in the shower for a few minutes, letting the heat release the tension in his back and neck before finally shutting off the water.

In no time, he had already dried off and shaved his beard that had grown over the past several months, although he chose to return to his classic look and left a little stubble. He ran his hands through his hair, doing his best to tame it. His hair was still a little longer than he'd like, but it would have to do. Callen changed into the new set of clothes provided for him, including a pair of jeans and a dark blue shirt. Once he'd slipped on his shoes, he tried opening the door, only to find it locked from the outside. He knocked on the door and a few moments later it opened and Thor lead Callen out of the bathroom. When they got to the hallway, two more guards joined them, the ones Callen had nicknamed Goliath and Mr. Muscle earlier.

Callen was lead into the elevator and the four of them waited until it reached the top floor. He got out and was lead down another hallway into a large, white corridor; their footsteps echoing with each stride. The anticipation Callen felt was growing as he moved towards the end of the corridor. Large windows lined the walls, casting a bright glow over the entire walkway leading to a single door. The lighting stung Callen's eyes after the constant dim he'd grown accustomed to, but he snuck a sideways glance to the window on his left. The building he was in was certainly tall as he caught a clear sight line of the coast in the distance. He didn't recognize any of the scenery he saw, so he probably wasn't still in Los Angeles, but he had a feeling they were still on the west coast.

Finally, the four of them reached the door, and Thor turned the handle and led Callen into the room. It looked like a room where business meetings were held, with a long, white table occupying the center. The door closed behind Callen as he caught sight of Iverson sitting at the end of the table with a smug look on his face. As Callen was instructed to take the seat opposite of him, Callen noticed the other two guards escorting him had left.

Callen settled into the chair and rested his elbows on the table, meeting his cold eyes with Iverson's. They both sat there for several minutes, neither of them wanting to flinch first. Callen didn't as much as move an inch. Finally, Iverson let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

"You're good Callen, even better than when we worked together last." He stood up and walked towards one of the windows, gazing at the view of the ocean. Callen snuck a glance through the window closest to him and he suddenly realized where he had been all this time: San Francisco. "It's a good thing, too, since we'll be working together. You'll need that confidence and natural ability you have in undercover work."

When Iverson was met with silence, he turned to face Callen. "What? You're not curious about why you're here?" He walked back towards the table and took his seat, Callen subtly watching his every move.

"Of course you are," Iverson smiled. "Terribly sorry about the wait, by the way," he added.

_Sure you are_, Callen thought. However, he still remained silent.

"You know how it goes," Iverson continued, "Once I was sure I could find you, I had to start organizing this deal, and it can take _so_ long to work out all the details. Of course, I also had to make sure your team thought you were dead long enough so they wouldn't be looking for you now. Luckily for me, they gave up easily." He smiled at Callen.

Callen still didn't respond. He knew the comment was meant to discourage him, but he didn't let it. Even if they truly thought he was gone, he knew they wouldn't have given up easily in finding his killers.

Iverson sighed dramatically. "Well, I guess I should explain to you why you're here." He shuffled some papers on the table until separating one from the stack.

"Remember Alexsandr Novikov?" Iverson prompted.

Callen raised his eyebrows in response.

"I have some… information he is interested in purchasing. It needs to be delivered in person next week, however we both know how devious he can be. You are my insurance policy should anything go wrong. You will deliver the information in Moscow to him as your old alias, Nikolai Krymov."

This information elicited a response. "The CIA terminated that alias after you burned me, remember?" The disdain in Callen's voice was clear.

"Come on, Callen. We both know people can come back from the grave. On paper, you are dead. Would you like to make that technicality accurate?"

"How are you going to convince Novikov that Krymov has been alive all this time? Krymov 'died' before the deal with the Aliyev family. I don't think Novikov would appreciate the fact that my alias died right before we made the deal together.

"Simple."

He picked up the paper he set aside earlier and slid it across the table. Callen dragged it closer to him and straightened it out. After a few minutes of reading the information, he gave Iverson an incredulous look.

"See? I've already had Krymov fully backstopped. You were meeting Aliyev about the deal when the CIA raided the warehouse. You escaped, but figured you would continue to be pursued by the CIA, so you faked your death in that same car bomb the CIA used to terminate Krymov. For the last 15 years, you've been making business deals all over the world, never using your own name in case you were discovered. Four months ago, you contacted Novikov through email, telling him the information you thought he'd be interested in. You've been messaging back and forth about the deal and finalized it on Thursday. You will be flying out Monday to Moscow and will meet him at his same residence Tuesday night."

Callen studied the paper with all the information on it in front of him, taking it all in as if Eric and Nell were reciting his new case to him. The brief thought saddened him, but he quickly focused back on processing what he had to do. If he didn't handle this right, they could all be in danger.

"Got it? Oh, it's Saturday, by the way. August 2nd. You were probably wondering the date." Iverson smiled again. Callen squinted his eyes. He wanted to wipe that smug look right off his face, but he knew that wouldn't help him at all.

Callen understood, but he still needed to get more information out of Iverson, whether it be his connections or how much he knew about his team.

"What information am I selling?"

"Well, I got it from a friend on base, but what it is really isn't important, and you don't really need to know either. All that matters is it's worth half a million."

Time and time again, Callen could not understand how someone could betray their country so easily, be it a former CIA agent or military personnel.

"You want me to commit treason?" He asked incredulously.

"Well you don't have much of a choice, do you?"

"What if I refuse?" Callen challenged.

"All it takes is a simple phone call and one of our old friends can track your entire team down by the end of the day."

Good, Callen thought. That means they don't have constant surveillance on his team. They were probably safe as long as Callen didn't slip up. Now, he also knew the person who was Iverson's technical support was someone who had worked at the agency with them.

"And make no mistake, Callen," Iverson began, his voice lowering ever so slightly. "You do anything to try to escape or mess this deal up, and I have no problem with killing every member of your team and informing your enemies I have you. I wonder which one would want you the most. I'm sure the price would more than compensate for this deal if it goes south." He hinted.

Callen kept his cold eyes locked on Iverson, his jaw clenching with anger in response. He had no doubt Iverson would follow through with his threat. He was the kind of person who had no loyalty and absolutely no remorse, but the last comment about his enemies seemed too thought out. He quickly realized that was Iverson's plan all along once this deal was done. Callen knew that if he couldn't think of a plan fast, in a matter of days he would have no chance of escape.

Iverson seemed to know that Callen realized that was his plan anyway, but this didn't faze him as he knew Callen would keep his team safe regardless.

"Well, now that that's settled, you will be taken to your room now. We will talk further about the details on the plane."

Callen sent Iverson one last glare as he stood up before Thor could reach him and haul him up. Iverson remained in his seat, perfectly content with his plan. Thor grabbed Callen by the shoulders and led him out of the room, the sound of the door shutting echoing in the corridor. Goliath and Mr. Muscles quickly joined them in their journey to the elevator. Once again on the basement floor, he was left alone in the same room as before, door locked from the outside.

Callen let out a long frustrating breath. He wished the demons of his past would stop coming back to haunt him. This time, it looked like he was losing the fight. He only had a few days to come up with a way to escape and protect his team, but how could he from the other side of the world? Pretty soon he'd be in Moscow, which meant it'd be almost impossible for his team to even find him, and that was if they knew to look for him there since he wasn't dead.

Callen collapsed on the mattress, and for the next two days he alternated his time between looking for opportunities to escape or contact his team and going over everything he knew about his alias, the deal, and the ever ruthless Alexsandr Novikov.

* * *

Psst... review! ;)


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Again, thank you so much for reading this and the reviews, I appreciate them very much.

* * *

Before Callen knew it, his two days were up. Thor opened his door and once again he was lead into a bathroom to shower and change; this time into a nice blue shirt, black suit, and black slacks. Black dress shoes were left for him as well. After quickly showering and getting dressed, Callen was escorted by two additional guards through a side door and out of the massive building. Callen stepped out into the open air, taking in the sunshine he'd been denied for so long as he walked toward a single black SUV in the parking lot.

He quickly identified Iverson standing there; hands in the front pockets of his suit and an arrogant grin on his face. Someone else stood next to him, the driver, Callen guessed. Once he'd approached the vehicle, Iverson opened the left rear door, motioning for Callen to get in. Callen kept his icy eyes on Iverson as he reluctantly climbed into the back seat. Iverson walked around to the passenger side and got in the front seat as his three guards piled in after Callen and the driver took the wheel. Callen was seated on the left in the last row with Thor next to him, and the SUV peeled out of the parking lot.

Callen stared out the window, observing the city and the people on the streets. He hadn't been to San Francisco in years, and none of the places they passed he recognized. However, thinking back on the memory sparked an idea in his mind, and for the rest of the drive Callen developed the idea into the first step in his plan.

* * *

Soon, the SUV arrived at a small, private airstrip. Iverson, Callen, and the guards piled out of the vehicle. They grabbed the luggage from the back and once the trunk was shut, the driver took off with the SUV. The guards carried the luggage while Iverson rested his hand on Callen's shoulder and casually led him inside the small airport. The guards followed them inside as Iverson walked toward the desk to check in.

"Hello," Iverson smiled, turning up his charm for the lovely brunette behind the desk. "I need to check in me and my guests for our flight to Moscow."

"No problem. May I have your name?" She happily replied.

"Peters." He responded, handing her an I.D. Callen stood a few feet from him and easily heard the conversation. Obviously, the name was an alias. He remained silent behind Iverson, looking as calm and relaxed as he could. He couldn't arouse suspicion from any of the airport workers; for fear that his teammates would suffer the consequences. He knew he had to play it out right.

"Yes, here you are. Your private plane is scheduled to depart at 9:00 this morning for Moscow. May I have your passport and all of your friends' information as well?"

In a matter of minutes they'd all been checked in and informed their plane was ready. A few workers approached to retrieve their luggage. As a woman was turning around with two duffle bags, she accidentally bumped into Callen. She quickly apologized and Callen returned the apology for being in her way. Callen watched after her as she joined her co-workers to load the luggage onto the plane.

Iverson, Callen, and the three guards stepped out on the tarmac, approaching the small plane. They climbed up the steps and into the cabin. As the others took their seats, Callen remained standing.

"I need to use the restroom." Callen said.

"Hurry up, we're taking off soon." Iverson conceded, not even glancing up from his phone.

Callen walked toward the back of the plane, shutting and locking the lavatory. He pulled from his pocket the phone he'd lifted from the airport worker he'd bumped into and made sure the sound was completely off. Quickly, he composed a text and sent it, hoping Eric would receive it in Ops. Less than a minute later he received a response, and for the first time in four months he had the feeling that he could be found. He quickly fired off a response before turning off the phone and hiding it in his suit. He'd have to get rid of it later.

He quickly left the lavatory and took his seat just as the plane prepared for take-off. Callen watched through the window as the plane left the asphalt and climbed in altitude, taking him further and further away from California. He may be on a flight with someone who betrayed him, headed to Russia on a dangerous mission against his will, but now he knew that his team would be coming for him, and if anyone could help him, it was them.

* * *

Sam sauntered into the bullpen, noticing he was the first one to arrive. He eased himself into his chair, pulled out his laptop from his bag, and started working on the reports he hadn't yet finished from Friday. He typed away at his computer, focused on his work, when a few minutes later, Eric burst out of Ops and startled the agent.

"HETTY!" Eric yelled. He ran down the stairs and made it half way until he spotted Sam staring at him. He looked from Sam to Hetty, then back to Sam with a shocked look on his face.

"What is it, Mr. Beale?" Hetty asked, surprised at his behavior.

"You guys need to see this. Now." Eric stressed, eyeing both Hetty and Sam. He turned around and ran back up the steps and to Ops.

Hetty and Sam both glanced at each other before quickly going after Eric.

They entered through the doors when immediately Eric started talking.

"Nell has already contacted the rest of the team, they should be here soon. This is not good, not good at all. Well it is good, but really it's not good at all. I should have known, I should've made sure. Oh, we wasted so much time!" Eric rambled, fingering his tablet and pacing the Ops floor. "I'm sorry, I should've looked more, widened the search parameters. I only had it at a 200 mile radius. I didn't think there would be anything further to find! The-"

"Eric!" Sam shouted, trying to stop him from rambling any longer. "Calm down. Now what did you find?"

That was enough to get Eric back on track. "A few minutes Ops received a text message. At first, I thought it was someone mistakenly sending it to our number, until I read this." Eric tapped his tablet a couple times, sending the message onto the big screen.

Sam began to read it out loud:

"'Eric, its Callen. I'm not dead, Scott Iverson faked my death. He is an ex-CIA agent turned criminal forcing me to trade classified information to Alexsandr Novikov, a powerful Russian businessman. He will kill the whole team if I don't do what he wants. His base of operations is in San Francisco. We are flying to Moscow for the deal, going down tomorrow night. Can you trace this?"

Sam sighed shaking his head. He knew he'd been right. He should've trusted his instincts from the beginning.

Eric quickly brought up two more texts and Sam continued to read them aloud, the first being one Eric sent from Ops:

"I traced your location. The team will be informed quickly and flown to Moscow, we'll find a way to stop this. I'll trace you as best as I can in Russia. Glad you're alive, stay that way."

"I need to go dark, can't use this phone anymore. Tell Sam he can count this as another time he's had to save me. Will make contact when possible, and thank you. -G."

Sam took in a breath, dumbfounded by the news they'd just received. He looked over at Hetty and noticed she was feeling the same. Seconds later, he managed to compose himself and addressed Eric.

"Where did you trace him?"

"A small private airstrip in San Francisco. The phone belongs to one of the employees there, he probably lifted it to make contact."

Nell, who had been silent while she worked with the new information, spoke up. "I managed to access their security feeds. This is from almost 20 minutes ago."

A video popped up of a smiling man leading Callen into the building. Three huge men followed behind carrying bags and suitcases. As they watched the events on the video feed play out, the four of them studied their leader. He looked a little different, maybe paler and leaner. The longer hair threw them off, but when he turned his head, they knew without a doubt it was him.

"I need to inform Vance." Hetty declared, quickly heading downstairs to handle the situation.

"Nell, when is the plane arriving there?"

"Moscow is 11 hours ahead, so when the plane arrives it'll be around noon on Tuesday there."

"What can you tell me about this Scott Iverson?"

Eric hopped on his computer and started working on more information. "Iverson was a CIA officer for many years up until fifteen years ago. Most of his files are redacted but I can tell you that he was fired from the agency and a warrant was out for his arrest, but he was never seen nor heard from again." Eric pulled up the feed and matched the man with his picture on file.

"Until now." Sam muttered. "Why was he fired?"

"Looks like he burned his partner while on a classified mission in exchange money. The agent was almost killed."

An uneasy feeling grew in Sam's stomach before he could even ask. "Can you find out who the agent was?"

Eric began searching until he found the information. He stopped typing and paused, surprised at what he found. "Callen," he stuttered.

Sam let out a frustrated breath as the doors to Ops opened.

"Mr. Hanna, I've spoken with Director Vance. He has authorized you and your team to complete this operation in Moscow by whatever means necessary," Hetty stressed. Just then, Kensi, Deeks, and Evan rushed into Ops, curious about what was going on. "This mission is a top priority. You need to secure whatever the classified information is, catch this Iverson, and save our agent. We need to do this quietly. We don't want to cause an international incident or to tip off Iverson. Eric and Nell will send you all the information you need, along with the unredacted files I just managed to secure from an old friend who owes me one. Vance has secured a flight for all of you in 30 minutes out of Torrence Airport." She turned so she could address all her agents. "Lady and Gentlemen, grab your go bags."

"Where are we going?" Kensi asked.

"Moscow. I'll fill you in on the plane ride." Sam said, already heading out of Ops. The agents briefly looked at each other, surprised, before quickly going after Sam. They caught up to him on the stairs and followed him through the bullpen to their lockers.

"Moscow? Why are we going to Moscow?" Deeks asked incredulously.

The question didn't even faze Sam as he packed extra things from his workspace into his go-bag.

"Save Callen." He declared.

They paused. "Callen?!"

"He's alive."

Kensi and Deeks shared a shocked and worried look before quickly grabbing their go-bags and preparing to leave, Evan following their example. The four of them headed to the armory to load up on extra ammo before heading out to the plane waiting for them.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I apologize profusely for the long silence in updates. Since last tuesday I've been on vacation in Oahu with family and moving for college there, and I've just been so busy and distracted. I start classes in the morning but still will be updating regularly and have sundays to write. Again, very sorry, hope there's still someone to read this. ;)

This chapter is very short and not very exciting, but I wanted to include it and thought a small update was better than waiting longer. I will have more up within the next few days. I really appreciate your patience. Please be so kind and leave me a little review :)

* * *

Sam, Kensi, and Deeks arrived at the airport as fast as the Challenger could be maneuvered through traffic. On their way out of the mission, Hetty had briefly stopped Evan to inform him that he'd be assisting the San Diego office in another case involving the death of a classified Navy officer who'd been vacationing in Long Beach. Frankly, the rest of the team weren't too disappointed upon hearing the news. Sure, he was a good agent, but this case was just too personal for the rest of them. On the way to the airport, Kensi began to suspect that Hetty intentionally separated Evan from this case to prevent any tensions that could arise. Their boss always had ulterior motives going on under the surface.

Soon, the three of them had checked in and boarded their small, private plane headed for Moscow. It would be a long flight for all of them, for they were eager to find their missing teammate, but after an hour of silence mixed with pacing, Sam took charge and suggested they go over their information and formulate a plan.

They pulled out all the files Eric and Nell had prepared for them. Seated around the small table inside the plane, they formed a circle and laid out the information in front of them.

"Okay, so what do we know?" Kensi prompted.

"Callen's alive, and has been held for the past four months by this Scott Iverson, an ex-CIA agent who betrayed his country." Sam's eyebrows furrowed in detest at the truth of his statement. He continued, addressing his younger teammates. "Callen's being forced to trade information to Alexsander Novikov, a powerful businessman, tomorrow night. This is the best lead we have, if we can't find him before this deal goes down, we may never get another lead in time."

They looked over the files as he spoke, trying to obtain as much information as they could. Kensi picked up a file on the Russian in question. "Novikov has made a large fortune in trading almost anything. Guns, drugs, information. He's made quite a name for himself. Looks like the CIA hasn't gotten anything to stick against him." Sam nodded in acknowledgment.

Deeks held up a CIA file and looked toward his teammates. "Callen tried to catch him before during his years in the CIA. This must have to do with something that went down fifteen years ago."

"Callen was undercover with Novikov back then," Sam reasoned, silently considering different options. "If Iverson went through all this trouble to have Callen make the deal for him, he must be using his old alias."

"That makes sense. These reports sound like Novikov liked Callen. It makes the deal easier for Iverson and if anything goes wrong, Callen becomes his insurance policy." Kensi reasoned, not liking what it suggested. She read on, worry growing as the details became clearer. "Iverson was Callen's partner. He burned him to some buyers, and it sounds like it didn't end pretty. You think he'll be okay, Sam?" The concern in her voice was clear.

The idea that his partner was being manipulated by someone he used to trust wasn't easy to hear a second time. What if this hurt all the progress Callen had made in trusting others? He didn't even want to think about what it would mean, but he knew Callen would still trust them.

"He will be once we find him." Sam declared. "We need a plan. Iverson has been planning this for months. He's two steps ahead of us. We only have a few hours until the deal once we land. We need to move fast once we get there if we're going to catch up."

"Eric will trace their movements once they arrive. If we're lucky, he'll find where Novikov's residence is and we can be there when the deal goes down."

"Iverson's scum, right?" They both looked at Deeks in interest. "I mean, he's the kind of guy who only cares about how much is in his pocket. He won't care at all about what happens to Callen. What happens when the deal is done?"

They all considered the detective's words. Too many answers they came up with only meant nothing good for their leader. The weight of this case was heavy for each of them. Only a couple hours ago did they find out Callen was even still alive, and now they had about a day to find and save him, stop a CIA traitor and powerful Russian businessman, and retrieve classified information. Luckily, they were the best team the agency had and knowing the gravity of their situation only increased their determination and ability to see it through to the end.


	12. Chapter 12

Hello! Another little chapter up for this week. Next one starts the next climax of this story and a lot of action, and the team finally see him!. It'll be up around the weekend, I think. Oh, and I have never been to Moscow, so I'll claim any geographical discrepancies I might've made, although I still tried to research the area.

Please be so kind and leave me a review! :))

* * *

(Tuesday, early afternoon, Moscow)

Callen walked with Iverson through the airport they'd landed at, casually positioning himself in video surveillance vantage points in case Eric could access the cameras. The five of them made their way through the packed airport, observing travelers hauling huge suitcases around the crowds and hurrying to catch their flight. Callen's eyes scanned the faces he met, subtly observing his surroundings as he followed behind Iverson. Finally, their group made it outside where two black town cars were waiting for them. Callen was motioned inside the first one as Iverson and one of his men joined him. The doors slammed shut and the car began to merge onto the busy street.

They drove through the vibrant streets of Moscow, headed southeast out of the city, Callen noticed. He appeared to be looking at his surroundings through the glass, but in reality he was watching Iverson through the reflection. The agent could feel the intense stare thrown his way since the car doors shut. Callen guessed he was just trying to intimidate him, but nevertheless it made him eager to get the upper hand. The fact that he hadn't been left alone since landing prevented him so far from trying to contact Eric, frustrating the agent.

The car pulled up to an expansive, elaborate hotel near the edge of the city. Soon, they'd checked in and inside, Callen was given backstopping for his old alias, Nikolai Krymov. He was also given a cell phone and told he needed to check-in every half hour as he made the drive alongside the forest to the mansion that Novikov resided in. He would be traced with the phone and car's GPS, and of course if he tried anything, Iverson would have his team killed. He would drive there, complete the deal, and drive back with the cash. Callen could follow these instructions simply enough, although he knew that it wouldn't be that easy. Nothing was ever easy when it came to the unpredictable Russian. A few hours later he was escorted to his car, where he pulled onto the two-lane highway that lead to the mansion.

* * *

As Callen began his journey, Sam, Kensi, and Deeks were finally arriving in the lively city of Moscow. The junior agents had yet to ever visit before, and briefly took in the dynamic activity and historic architecture that represented hundreds of years of culture as the sun sparkled off the towering buildings. They took a cab to a secluded hotel on the surrounding edge of the city, eager to set up communications with Ops and receive an update. Finding their teammate quickly depended upon Eric receiving anything that would point them in the right direction.

Once arriving inside their room, Sam pulled out the satphone and dialed Ops.

"Eric, anything?"

The tech operator began to answer. "We got lucky. I managed to isolate which airport their flight would arrive at and with some hacking and a little bit of looking over the shoulder of the Russian government, I accessed their security cameras. Iverson, Callen, and three other men left the same airport you arrived at almost four hours ago. I'm still tracing them since they got lost in the city. Normally, I could do it in seconds, but with the traffic and limited number of cameras I can access, it'll take a little longer."

"How long?"

"About a half hour."

Sam sighed, unhappy with how little time they had, but there wasn't much of a choice at the moment.

"Alright, just make sure you cover your tracks. We don't want to spook him."

"Already done." Back at Ops, Nell, who'd been working alongside Eric for hours on useful information the team could use and predicting next moves Iverson would make, hit the speaker button and began to talk.

"I've been looking into properties Iverson owns in the area. He has one large estate in the south-east of the city, but I doubt that's where they went. There's only one access road there and there's a street camera near the entrance. After managing to hack into it, I can tell you that no one has been on that road after their plane landed. We're still looking into Novikov's location of his residence. He covered his tracks well, it'll take some time to narrow down his location."

"Thanks, keep us updated Nell."

"Will do."

The line shut off, leaving the team members a little more anxious than before. They'd covered all the details and angles they needed to review on the plane, and now all they could do was sit and wait for a lead. Sam was tempted to just go out anyway and look for him, but the more rational part of his brain took over and he knew that it wouldn't do any good. Each of them waited in silence, occasionally pacing and checking the time. After a few minutes, Sam decided to be productive and prevent himself from charging out the door by cleaning his gun and loading the ammo. He slowly and meticulously ran the cloth in and around the barrel, clicking the pieces back into place once he finished. Kensi had taken to flipping through the fuzzy channels on the old TV set and after Deeks had grown tired of looking at the hideous décor of their room and started to observe the street through the window, a loud ring broke the silence.

"Go, Eric." Sam immediately answered.

"I traced them to a hotel about fifteen kilometers east of you, but a traffic camera caught Callen driving a car forty-five minutes ago traveling further east, headed towards a forest. We did more digging on Novikov and found a mansion in the direction Callen is going that is linked to him."

"Was there anyone in the car with him?"

"No, but there is a cell signal coming from the car. One call has been made. I traced the number of the owner of the phone that Callen called and it traced back to an account in the Caymans registered to Iverson."

"Thanks Eric." He slammed the phone shut without waiting for a reply and quickly the team gathered their things and headed through the door. When they arrived to the parking lot, they realized they didn't have a car to take. Quickly, they found an appropriate car and Kensi used her skills to hotwire it. They took off from the parking lot, headed east; determined to bring their leader home.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Here we are, one of the climaxes in this journey I'm taking you on. ;) This ones a lot longer than the last two, and it's pretty clear that the more exciting chapters are a lot easier to write. Next update may be around wednesday, but more likely friday/saturday. Enjoy and please let me know what you think by leaving me a review!

* * *

After nearly two hours, Callen turned up a side road and approached a white, large, three-story mansion nestled between the woods on almost every side. The front of the house had a vast, open expanse, with several kinds of greenery decorating the walkway leading up to the front door. Callen parked his car near the front of Novikov's house, grabbing the briefcase he'd been given for the exchange. As he approached the door, he began to assume his alias, becoming Krymov more and more with each step. Once he rang the doorbell, his demeanor had changed in a way that he wouldn't have been recognized as the same person.

The door opened to reveal two guards on the other side, a brief thought crossed Callen's mind that he really was getting tired of being ordered by guards. They gestured him inside the mansion and Callen followed them to a room on the third floor. Once he entered, he quickly identified the man behind the desk in the center of the room, lifting a glass to his lips. The man quickly put his glass down and stood to great him.

"Nikolai Krymov", the big, dark haired Russian greeted in his native language, "How are you, my friend?" He smiled, embracing Callen, and the agent followed through, fully immersed in his alias.

"I am well, glad to be back in my home country." Callen replied, perfectly responding in the same tongue as he settled into one of the chairs in front of Novikov's desk.

"Yes, I hear you've been over in America. Tell me, why would you stay there so long?" He said as he eased down into his chair.

"Well," Callen began, "Since my supposed death fifteen years ago, I've built quite a fortune there. It's a much easier place to build your investments, although I have missed this country dearly." Callen responded, Novikov engrossed in each of his words.

"Would you like something to drink?" Novikov offered, holding up a vodka before pouring more into his own cup.

"I'd love one, but I mustn't. I have a long drive back to the city later." Callen answered, trying to keep a clear head for whatever lay ahead for him.

"Ah yes, of course." Novikov nodded, grinning.

The two continued to engage in conversation for some time; Callen still speaking in flawless Russian with the businessman. Their topics kept turning back to what Callen had been doing during the last decade and a half, to which he'd spin more details and stories to fit his cover. Eventually, Callen became restless with the irrelevant conversation and tried to turn the topic to their business exchange.

"Ah, yes, I apologize," Novikov grinned. "Sometimes I tend to talk too much. Let's begin, but first," he suddenly stood, pulled a hand gun out of his suit, and aimed it at Callen's head, "Tell me, why an American agent is back for me after so long? Why are you here?" The smile instantly disappeared and only a menacing, cold stare replaced it.

Callen froze, caught off guard by the sudden action. He met the eyes of the big Russian, ready to deny it, but one look and he knew his efforts would be in vain.

"I always knew you were good, my friend, but how would you have managed to evade the CIA when they raided Aliyev's warehouse? Then, you disappear without a word. Imagine my surprise when you contact me months ago to make a business deal. I'd be a fool if I didn't look into you first. Turns out, no one you've supposedly done business with has heard from you since you disappeared. I knew then that you weren't who you said you were. You are CIA, correct?"

"No," Callen spat, flashing his icy blues. Novikov walked around his desk towards Callen, still sitting in his chair, unarmed.

"Ah, well of course you would never admit it, but I'm sure you're wondering why I'd accept your offer if I knew you were an agent. You see, many times now the CIA has tried to pull one over on me. Well, I want to show them that they can't keep coming after me like this without consequences." Novikov reached Callen, placed the barrel on his forehead, and placed his finger on the trigger.

* * *

Sam pushed the limits of the car as they drove on the road toward Novikov's mansion, keen to catch up with Callen, but the drive seemed to go on forever for the agents. Once they'd entered the forest, the view of trees through the windows seemed endless. Once they were almost twenty minutes away, a troubling thought crossed Kensi's mind.

"Guys, what if Iverson has eyes on Callen? He must be playing an angle we don't know about for Callen to be going through with the deal. What if we get in the way?"

The car was silent for a few moments as they thought about how to get Callen out safely. Sam was about to answer when his phone went off. He cut himself off and answered the call.

"Yeah, go." Sam answered as he put the phone on speaker.

"You need to get to the house now. I've been looking into Novikov's communications and recent searches over the last few months. He's been digging into Callen's alias. Callen may have been compromised."

Sam sighed. "Okay, thanks Nell." He pushed the gas pedal harder and the car noticeably accelerated.

"Doesn't matter now, Kensi. We're getting him out of that house whether he wants us to or not."

The younger agents couldn't argue with that for a second.

* * *

Sam, Kensi, and Deeks pulled up on the side of the road near the mansion. They grabbed their assault rifles and on second thought, Sam suggested to Kensi that she take an overwatch position in the trees. Kensi grabbed her sniper and the agents stealthily advanced toward the mansion nearby. Kensi identified a good spot high in the trees and signaled to her teammates. She took a position with a good view of the front of the house while Sam and Deeks moved around to clear the house's perimeter. Sam took the front while Deeks took the back door. They waited for Kensi to signal she was in position. Kensi aligned her sniper and scanned the windows of the house, searching for any signs of movement. When she searched through the third floor, she caught in her crosshairs movement through the large glass windows. A split second later she saw a man with a gun walk towards her teammate and place a gun against his head.

"Guys, I've got a suspect with a gun on Callen, I'm taking the shot!" She yelled, pulling the trigger on her last word. The shot hit its target and she glanced down briefly to see Sam kick the front door open.

* * *

Callen looked up at Novikov as the cold metal hit his skin, thinking his luck had run out and the last few months had only been borrowed time as he waited for him to pull the trigger.

He waited for the sound of a gunshot, but when it came, he felt no impact. Instead, he heard a crash and saw a bullet pierce Novikov's skull. He sat there for a second, trying to comprehend what had just happened as he stared at Novikov's body. Once he shook the shock of how close he came to dying off, he leaned over and grabbed the handgun from Novikov's lifeless grasp. As he stood, the door burst open and one of Novikov's men entered. Before he had a chance to react, the guard pulled a shot off, hitting Callen in the shoulder. Callen moved to defend himself, but at the same moment that the man had fired his gun he was taken out by two shots crashing through the window.

Callen didn't know who was outside, but he knew he needed to get himself out of the house before more guards came. Clenching his teeth to fight through the pain in his shoulder, he ran through the door and towards the stairs, killing one guard he met in the hallway. Callen could hear shots echoing throughout the house as he ran down the steps. Once he reached the bottom floor, he met two more guards. He killed one, but only winged managed the second. The guard yelled in pain, and Callen took the precious few moments he'd just bought himself to open the window next to him and climb through it. He heard more shots fire inside the house and another guard yell as they were hit while he ran toward the forest.

* * *

Sam and Deeks raided the house, taking out several guards as they cleared the house and searched for Callen. Suddenly, Kensi's voice came over their comms.

"Callen's hit in the shoulder. He made it out of the house through the window and ran into the forest nearby, I'm going after him!"

"Got it Kensi, we've almost reached the second floor." Sam acknowledged, trying to not worry about the fact that his partner was shot again. He fired his gun at another guard before climbing the stairs, Deeks covering his back.

They searched the second floor, coming across one more gunman before each signaled that it was all clear. They climbed up the steps to the final floor, Sam checking the rooms on the left while Deeks cleared the right. Sam turned around from clearing another room when he caught sight of a gunman raising his gun toward Deeks who, at that moment, was facing away from the man. Sam aimed and fired at the man, killing him with one shot before he could ever squeeze his trigger. Deeks quickly looked back and understood what just happened, but the two agents quickly resumed checking the last few rooms, only meeting two bodies in an office. They both stopped inside the room, taking in the bodies and bullet holes in the windows from Kensi's sniper. They realized that this was where Kensi spotted Callen minutes before.

Deeks turned to face Sam, who was staring at a pool of blood off to the side of the bodies.

"Hey," Deeks addressed, getting Sam's attention. Sam lifted his eyes to meet the detective's. "Thanks." Deeks conceded. Sam responded with a serious nod towards his teammate before taking a few steps towards the door.

"Let's go find him." Sam walked out of the room, and Deeks was right behind him.

* * *

Callen ran through the trees, seeking cover from the shootout going on behind him. For all he knew, Novikov could've sent his men to finish them all off and take everything for himself. Callen sought refuge behind a large tree nestled in the brush. He wasn't very far from the mansion, but his shoulder was throbbing and his energy was diminishing fast. He knew he needed to conserve his strength and find cover. He leaned against the tree, trying to catch his breath while watching for anyone approaching.

A rustling off to his right caught his attention and he snapped his head around, raising his gun. The person came into view, and instantly he relaxed when he saw someone he wasn't sure he'd ever see again.

Kensi had quickly followed after Callen, which wasn't too hard because he'd left a small blood trail she could track. She rounded a corner, gun hanging by her side, when she saw the man himself, gun raised toward her. For a split second, she caught sight of his cold eyes before he visibly relaxed and holstered his gun. He took a heavy breath and rested his hands on his knees, but Kensi couldn't shake off what she saw in his eyes. They looked hard and icy, but she also recognized the thinly veiled stress and anxiety behind them. She took in the slightly weary appearance of the agent and could only imagine what the last few months had been like for him.

Kensi took a few steps closer to Callen, placing her hand on his back.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Callen stood and pushed himself off from the tree. She knew it was a lie, but decided to let it slide for now. She pulled her leader into an embrace, overjoyed to have the agent back. The two released and began to walk back towards the clearing, Kensi discreetly making sure he wouldn't collapse on his own because he chose to be stubborn. After a few moments of silence, it was obvious neither knew exactly what to say.

"So, it's been a while, huh?" Kensi tried, wincing afterwards at her poor attempt at conversation.

"You're really not good at small talk, are you? Callen smiled, recalling a previous occasion where Kensi had tried it before.

A small chuckle escaped Kensi's lips. "Guess not." She admitted. However, she noticed she managed to make Callen smile, so her comment was successful nevertheless.

A crackle came over Kensi's comm and she registered the words being spoken.

"Sam and Deeks just finished clearing the house," she announced, silently debating her next words. "Sorry about your shoulder. I should've acted faster," she scolded herself.

"Kensi, there's no way I can complain about your timing. I should be thanking you, I couldn't've gotten out of that myself." He admitted. Kensi remained silent, recognizing Callen's gratitude within his words. They cleared the last few feet of brush until stepping onto the neatly kept grass. The two soon caught Sam and Deeks coming around the corner of the house.

* * *

The two agents spotted Callen ahead of them with Kensi, and Sam sighed with relief that his partner was finally found. He saw the bloodstain over Callen's left shoulder and grew concerned, but he knew that at least the injury wasn't too serious.

The agents finally reached each other, small smiles gracing each of their faces as they looked at each other. Deeks held out his hand to Callen. "Welcome back." Callen grasped it and Deeks pulled him into a brotherly hug, careful of his wound. Callen then turned toward his partner.

"Really? Same shoulder again?" Sam teased, pointing at Callen's gunshot. Callen smirked in response, and Sam took his hand to pull him into a hug. The younger agents smiled at each other, glad to see the duo back.

Once they'd all finished greeting Callen, they moved inside the house, quickly assessing their situation. Callen noticed his check in time was coming up soon, however the rest of the team was glad to hear Iverson didn't have eyes on him. Callen knew he needed to make a decision about how to handle Iverson fast.

Callen grabbed the briefcase of classified information and handed it to his partner, then grabbed Novikov's briefcase of money that lay on the desk.

"So Callen, what's the plan?" Deeks asked.

Callen pulled out his phone, sending a text to check in before turning to his team.

"Now, we go after Iverson."

* * *

A/N: Callen's back with the team, but where will his plan to catch Iverson take him? Stay tuned.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: SO very sorry about the longer wait, I'm still trying to adjust to college and balancing between homework and friends. This next week is only extra busy but by next weekend I can start working on the next chapter. I'm really trying to post every week, promise! I didn't get to everything I wanted to in this chapter because Im super tired right now (I blame any mistakes on that)but I wanted you guys to have something for now. Wish I had tons of free time but thats nonexistent in college :/

Also, let me know of things you think I need to include next or that the story would benefit from, I love your input so my story can be even better!

The premiere is only two days away! Finally! :)

* * *

The four team members headed downstairs to regroup while Sam insisted on tending to Callen's shoulder, under much resistance, of course.

"It's just a scratch, I'm fine." Callen protested as he sat on the kitchen counter, his suit jacket and white, lightly bloodied shirt lying next to him. He had a slightly annoyed look on his face as he obliged to his partner's wishes. Sam was currently applying pressure to his wound while Kensi and Deeks sat at the kitchen table nearby.

Sam gave him an incredulous look as he checked if the gunshot was still bleeding.

"Oh sure, we'll see when you pass out from blood loss."

"It's not that bad, I can hardly even feel it." Callen nonchalantly replied. Sam looked towards his partner.

"I may not have seen you for a while, but I still know when you're lying to me, G. Now, quit complaining and let me patch you up." Sam sounded a little irritated. He briefly paused and looked down, trying to relieve the stress that had continuously built until now. He just needed to figure out how to get through to his stubborn partner. "Just do this for us, Okay?"

Wordlessly, Sam turned away and began to clean out Callen's wound, which he luckily found to be through and through. At least he wouldn't have to dig a bullet out of his partner.

Callen grew silent after recognizing the sincerity of Sam's statement. He suddenly considered something that had only briefly crossed his mind. He knew that they were a team who would do anything for each other, but he didn't know just how much his disappearance would've affected them. Searching for so long only to believe they were too late must've been weighing on their minds for months. Now, once they had finally found him, they were almost too late. The cumulative stress of the whole case was now taking its toll on them.

He glanced at his junior agents sitting at the kitchen table. Deeks was looking through the window, seemingly staring off into the distance. It took Callen another second to realize he was watching the road, making sure no one would make a surprise visit. Callen had always been good at reading people, and as he took a few seconds to notice the small, but crucial details etched in his teammate's face, he could not miss the stress and sheer exhaustion evident by the lines around his eyes and dark circles underneath them.

He moved his gaze over to Kensi and immediately caught her already looking in his direction. Kensi looked him in the eyes. She was trying to appear strong, but Callen knew she was attempting to subdue the fear and frustration he no longer wanted her to feel. Kensi broke eye contact and looked away, trying to get her jumbled thoughts together as the events of the past day finally started to hit her.

Callen glanced off to his side, but he didn't even have to look at Sam to know just how he was feeling. After seven years, you know a person so well that you read each other's thoughts, whether you want them to or not. He knew Sam was worried, for he always was when Callen was injured, but he also knew Sam was beyond relieved to find him alive. Callen felt a little guilty for not considering the stress his teammates were facing, especially knowing it was because of him. He quietly let Sam patch up his shoulder, slightly wincing every time new pain would shoot from his shoulder. However, he was so concentrated on catching his breath once Sam finished that he didn't realize what was in Sam's hand until it was too late.

"Ow!" Callen grunted. He looked up with an accusing face.

"You don't want it to get infected, do you?" Sam countered as he dropped the empty needle. "Here, take these." He dropped two pain killers into Callen's hand. Sam watched his partner carefully, trying to figure out how he was doing not only physically but mentally as well. He had no idea what had happened to his partner since that night he was forced into the van, seemingly lost forever. Sam knew he needed to talk to him and make sure he could handle going after a man who'd betrayed him.

Callen sighed and took the offered pills, silently grateful for something to take the edge off. With not very many options, he stood and slipped his bloody shirt back on, followed by his suit. He and Sam joined Kensi and Deeks around the kitchen table, ready to plan their next move.

"First off," Callen started, looking at his team, "I want to thank you guys for coming for me."

"We're a team aren't we?" Deeks said.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Sam agreed with conviction.

Callen nodded and glanced at Sam, sharing one of their knowing looks. As he turned back, Kensi spoke up.

"You sure you're okay, Callen?" Kensi asked, concerned about her teammate. She was so relieved to have him alive, sitting across from her, but she knew this nightmare wasn't over for any of them and she needed to know that he'd still be there for them to take him home when this was all over.

"Kens, I'm good." Callen promised, and for the most part his words were true. She thought a second before accepting them and nodding her head, and Callen was inwardly glad when she agreed. He didn't want to waste time focusing on himself, he needed to catch Iverson.

"So, what's our next move?" Deeks asked, determined to support his returned leader.

"I assume you've all been read in?"

"Hetty had the files for us within minutes." Sam revealed. Callen let out a small chuckle and briefly wondered if there was anything Hetty couldn't do.

He quickly decided where to begin. "Our priority is Iverson. This is his final deal. After this, he could disappear for years, and I won't let that happen again", Callen vowed. "That money isn't enough for this to be his last deal. He has something else planned."

"Any idea what that is?" Sam asked, somehow knowing that Callen already knew the answer.

"Once I return with the money, he plans to trade me over to one of my enemies," he admitted. "Whichever pays the highest." He didn't miss the silence that followed nor the concerned faces of his teammates. "It gets worse. He has an inside man both in the CIA and on a military base who can track down the whole team. He threatened to kill everyone on the team if don't do what he wants."

"G, I know that look." Sam said, shaking his head. "I don't care what you're planning, you're not going lone wolf on us this time."

"You will all be right behind me. We need to find out who his sources are and bring them in before our team is further compromised. I have to finish this." Callen reasoned.

"You plan on going back?" Kensi asked, surprised.

"We can have Eric and Nell find these guys, you don't have to do this." Deeks pleaded

"By the time we catch Iverson and find these guys they could already be long gone. Iverson has many resources and no one's been able to find him for fifteen years. We need to do everything we can to finally bring him in. I won't let him get away this time." Callen said with great conviction, his face conveying detest for the man he spoke of. At that moment, they knew trying to change his mind would be fruitless.

"So, you're just going to go back to this guy?" Sam said, raising an eyebrow. "Then what? Assuming he doesn't kill you as soon as you walk through the door." He hated it when his partner purposely placed himself in dangerous situations.

"Once I give him the money, I'll get him to reveal information about who these guys are, then we take him in. You guys will be nearby if something happens. It's simple." Callen reasoned.

Simple but dangerous, Sam thought. He didn't like the plan at all, but they had very little time left to come up with anything better. He just had to make sure to have his back.

"Alright." Sam reluctantly agreed.

The junior agents were not huge fans of him returning, but they followed their teammates' lead and nodded their heads in agreement.

"Let's gear up, we don't have much time before I should be leaving." Callen ordered. The other agents stood, beginning to grab their gear and ready their weapons. Sam walked over to him and nudged him.

"G, can I talk to you for a sec?" he spoke lowly. Callen turned and followed Sam to an adjourning room off to their right. Kensi and Deeks noticed the exchange and gave each other an apprehensive look, each hoping their team would be alright as they packed their gear.

* * *

Up next: Callen/Sam talk, Callen returns to Iverson, but plans are never as easy as they seem...


End file.
